


if you love me, don't let go

by cissyalice



Series: your life was my life's best part [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU post 10x12, Also Snuggling, But also comfort, F/F, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lots of Angst, NOT yumiko or magna, again not yumiko or magna, i hope you won't get bored cos this is at 20000 words already i'm so sorry, lawyer miko, oops angst, reference to PTSD, these two need a hug and i am going to give it to them, warning: lesbians being soft i repeat lesbians being soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:42:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23310328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cissyalice/pseuds/cissyalice
Summary: At some point, you just have to let go - or so Yumiko keeps telling herself.There was never any letting go of Magna.
Relationships: Magna/Yumiko (Walking Dead)
Series: your life was my life's best part [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1676368
Comments: 21
Kudos: 84





	1. Stay

**Author's Note:**

> [The rape/non-con is there for Magna's cousin and it will only ever be in references I will not be writing anything detailed about it because I don't want to trigger anyone and this isn't the story for writing about something like that as I would not be able to give it the time and attention it deserves]
> 
> Small note: Magna's cousin is called Maisie in this and I've also given her a brother called Morgan.
> 
> y'all are going to hate me because yes, this is going to be over 20000 words about a single night. And probably not even the whole night. but there's also flashbacks so it's OK? In my defense, we've gotten very few conversations with these two so there was a lot to talk about. I can't be held responsible for my actions. blame the writers. 
> 
> I’m honestly a little worried that I’m going to bore people to tears because there’s really no plot. It’s just yumagna being soft and finally sorting out their shit.
> 
> I'm also working on a short oneshot - for real this time it's actually going to be short - that's set in the indeterminate future after this. It's basically just going to be pure fluff which you should knew is unheard of - I never write fluff. So hopefully it's not terrible.
> 
> There be angst here, lots of angst, but also comfort - if you’re familiar with my writing that won’t be a surprise to you. 
> 
> I don’t have much hope for canon so I decided to do what I could to fix the mess they made.
> 
> I normally wouldn’t reveal anything that’s going to happen in a fic but y’all have been tortured enough already so just know I will absolutely be getting these girls back together, it won’t take more than a night, but it will take about 20000 words. Most of the story is written out already I’m just doing post-edits so I’ll update daily :)
> 
> If things seem a little disjointed it’s because I wrote everything out of order and it’s been a bit of a struggle to get everything to fit into place. I also haven’t slept more than 1-4 hours a night for the past three weeks, have been getting constant migraines and blood sugar crashes so I’m gonna apologize right now if there are any mistakes. I’m super sorry.
> 
> This is for the yumagna fandom cos I wanted y'all to have something nice with everything that's going on. I would also like to give a special thanks to Abbey and Mina who acted as my sounding board throughout this whole thing and were very patient with me - love you guys :)

" _If you love me, don't let go_

_Hold_

_Hold on_

_Hold on to me_

_'Cause I'm a little unsteady_

_A little unsteady . . ._ _"_

_\- Unsteady by X Ambassadors_

_. . ._

Nightmares had always been an issue, though less so in recent years. Magna had almost gotten used to having a full night's sleep, barring the occasional pillow snatch. Back before all this started, she'd been on medication for PTSD, but well, it was kind of hard to fill a prescription in the middle of the apocalypse - and said apocalypse had only added to the previous need for said medication. At least she was in good company. These days, it was more of a surprise if someone _wasn't_ experiencing some form of post-traumatic stress, and that was a somewhat odd reality to wake up in, day after day. For years, this thing had set her apart, but now? Now it just made her like everyone else.

Miko had nightmares too.

It was what had led to them sharing a 'bed' in the first place, way before things between them moved beyond the confines of friendship. They'd fallen asleep by the fire one particularly cold night, curled around each other for warmth, and they hadn't awoken until morning.

It had been something of a revelation.

On Magna's end, she suspected it had had a lot to do with trust. She'd trusted Miko not to shove a shiv into her side or try to cop a feel whilst she slept, trusted her even more to have her back if things went south during the night. The other woman had been . . . safe. Magna wasn't used to people being safe - she wasn't quite sure what she offered Miko in return, though; maybe the same thing.

Of course, in many ways Yumiko _wasn't_ safe.

There was nothing safe about the way Magna felt about her. Or the way those feelings seemed to be returned. She knew Miko had once had a girlfriend in college who'd cheated - and when the other woman had told her that, a vindictive part of her had hoped the bitch had been one of the many, many people to meet their end by sicko teeth. Miko had smacked her on the arm for that comment, exasperation tempered by fondness and reluctant amusement.

She'd realized in her time away, that this past hurt would have only sharpened Magna's betrayal. Trust was important to Miko - hell, it was important to _Magna_ \- and she had broken hers by lying, lying for _years_. She hadn't thought of it that way when she'd been doing it. The secret had weighed on her, yes, but she'd been viewing it from a place of self-preservation. She hadn't really considered how it would hurt Miko, only what it would do to their relationship if it had ever come out, what it would do to _her_.

That, more than anything, had made her realize that Miko had been right to kick her out. More than right.

Which is why she could hardly believe that they were here now. That Miko was letting Magna's head rest in her lap, that she had _invited_ her to do so. Sitting back against a tree and patting her thigh with a small smile her way when Magna had gone to settle a short distance off. The way she had nearly fallen over herself to accept that invitation was almost embarrassing but she couldn't bring herself to feel self-conscious about it, or to second guess the action. They'd done this as friends too and she was glad it wasn't something she had sacrificed with their relationship.

She'd been attracted to Yumiko from the moment they met. It was hard not to be. She wasn't _blind -_ hot lawyer lady in a suit, how could she _not_ notice her in that way? The woman had entered into her dilapidated life with a sureness and determination that was hard to dismiss. Intelligent, strong, and fighting for _her._

No one had ever fought for Magna. Not until Miko.

(really, she'd been screwed from the start)

Of course, the person Yumiko was fighting for was little more than an illusion. If Miko had only known the truth then . . .

She probably would have dropped her like a hot potato, just like everybody else. She probably would have been wise to.

Or maybe she wasn't giving Miko enough credit. After all, she was still here _now_. Carding her hand through Magna's hair in a soothing motion as she pretended to sleep - and Miko pretended to believe her performance. She knew the truth now, and still she kept close. Maybe they weren't together anymore but that had been as much Magna's choice as Miko's. She couldn't let herself get to that place again, where she was so terrified of losing something, she ended up destroying it.

And God, Magna was so tired, so tired of being afraid, so tired of being angry.

Just so tired.

(' _I can_ _'t do this anymore.')_

She needed a distance between them, even if she didn't want it. Romantic relationships had a tendency to blow up in her face. But friendships . . . well, they were generally more reliable. After all, she had been friends with Miko for years and things only turned sour after they had crossed over the safety of that border into something more.

( _things turned sour because you couldn't stand keeping it a secret from her anymore. The same thing would have happened if you'd still been only friends_ )

She shifted uncomfortably, remembering at the last second that she was supposed to be asleep. But Miko only stilled a moment before continuing with her motions, allowing the deception to maintain itself.

The relief passed her lips in a shaky exhale.

Magna couldn't bring herself to talk anymore. She was drained - both emotionally and physically - and the thought of pulling any more words out of her mouth almost made her cry with exhaustion. And Miko seemed to sense that, almost as soon as Magna had first fallen silent. But, then, she'd always been good at reading her.

She was observant. Like Connie.

Squeezing her eyes shut tighter, she immediately regretted the action. In the darkness, all she saw was her friend's face, disappearing into the throng of sickos, possibly never to be seen again. Of course, Magna hadn't witnessed that at all. She'd kept her gaze ahead, too wary to look around and give away the disguise, but she had _felt_ Connie's hand slip from hers, the ache of the empty space it had left behind. Her imagination filled in the blanks now, even adding in a few colorful extras - wide eyes, a silent scream, falling beneath the weight of too many bodies, torn apart. Gone.

So many people were just . . . gone.

"Do you think she survived?" The words hung in the night air; foreign, distant. Magna blinked, unsure if they'd really come from her. She couldn't remember opening her mouth. But her tongue felt thick and heavy, her lips cracked. She could taste the metallic hint of blood caused by the effort.

Miko paused. Just a second, her fingers tangling in Magna's hair a little too tight, almost painful, then a breath, and she returned to smoothing it back. " _You_ did."

"Barely. I was lucky."

"And there's no reason she won't be, too. Connie's smart, strong. She could make it."

Magna could think of a hundred reasons. A thousand.

Her stomach turned and she closed her eyes, opening them in a snap when Connie's face answered her. She trembled. "I should have stopped. I should have looked for her."

Miko didn't hesitate. "Then you'd be dead. Might even have gotten her killed as well. All for nothing."

_At least I wouldn't_ _be feeling like this._

Magna opened her mouth to argue but found that she didn't have the strength. She closed her eyes again, inhaling the scent of the woods, of the leaves and dirt beneath their bodies, of _Miko_. Especially Miko. "What the hell am I going to say to Kelly?"

If she wasn't dead.

What if they were the only ones left? Her and Miko. Bernie gone. Connie gone. Kelly gone. Luke gone. She'd failed to protect them. All of them.

And she'd thought she'd cried enough tears but her eyes _burned_ and she rubbed at them fiercely, like there was dirt, like if she could just get it out the fire would vanish and she wouldn't crumble to ashes in its grip.

And there was Miko's voice, at once gentle and firm, pulling her back. "She won't blame you. She _knows_ you. You've always fought hard for us. As hard as you can. This just wasn't a situation in which you could."

Magna nearly scoffed.

No, she could have fought. But she'd gotten _scared_. She'd hesitated. She hated being fucking scared ( _small and shaking, hugging Morgan to her chest as Daddy_ _'s voice got loud, so loud, why was it so_ _ **loud**_ _?)._ It was such a useless emotion. And now it had probably gotten Connie killed.

Miko tugged at her hair slightly, gentle but scolding. "Seriously, Magna. You couldn't have done anything. If anyone should be feeling guilty it's me."

Frowning, she turned her head in her grip to look up, a strand of hair snagging but she didn't mind the pain. "What are you talking about?"

But Miko shook her head, refusing to meet her gaze as she focused on raking her hands through Magna's hair, avoiding the knots with an ease born of years of practice. "I should have been there with you. I shouldn't have stayed behind that day."

_And then you might be dead too_. Magna shuddered at the thought. Her worst fear, worse than Miko choosing to leave her, Miko being _taken_ from her. Forever.

And it wasn't even a what-if situation. It felt inevitable. This was the _apocalypse -_ their expiration dates were always inching closer.

"I'm glad you did." Even though Magna couldn't see Miko's face, she sensed her hurt, felt the flinch of her hand. "I couldn't lose you. _Not like that_."

Giving up on getting the other woman to look at her, she settled back in her lap but kept her eyes open.

Yumiko's voice was caustic when she responded, fragile and harsh all at once. " _I_ thought I lost _you._ " The hand resumed its stroking, stiffer now, almost angry. "At least if I had been there I could have helped, and I would have known. I would have known if you were okay."

_Not if you got out with Kelly_.

But, no, Miko wouldn't have left them, wouldn't have left _her_. She would have seen her double back with Connie and gone after her too - like Magna, she was always watching. Maybe she would even have noticed and gone after Connie first - she was equally as protective of their group - and then Magna would have been the one left behind. To wonder, to fear.

Thinking about it, that probably would have driven her to punch Carol, too. Though her fuse had always been a lot shorter than Miko's.

Now, she snorted at the sudden memory. "I can't believe you punched Carol. I've never seen you like that." In a way, it had scared her. She was so used to Miko being calm, forever in control. She was the one who reined _Magna_ in.

Okay, it had also been kind of hot. Even half-dead on her feet, she couldn't fail to notice that.

"To be honest, neither can I." There was a wry note to the other woman's tone, and Magna wondered if she was smiling, almost risked looking up again to find out. "I don't regret it, if that's what you're wondering."

"Not like you to kick a dog when it's down."

"Not like you to be so forgiving."

She scoffed. "I'm not. Connie's gone. Probably dead and she-" Magna swallowed, collecting herself. "I'm not forgiving. I just don't have the energy to be angry anymore."

"Well that's _definitely_ not like you." Miko teased, hesitating for a moment before severity bled back into her voice. "Are you going to be okay?"

Magna closed her eyes, sighed. Why was she so _good?_ "You don't have to worry about me, Miko."

Scoff. "Another lie. I found a grey hair the other day, thanks to you."

"Oh and it couldn't have possibly been the literal end of days that we're stuck in?"

"Have you met you?" Another tug at her hair, this time playful and, for a moment, Magna could breathe easier. "Seriously, though, are you going to be okay?"

For a moment.

She shifted, hair pulling painfully but that was almost welcome. "I'll be fine. I'll be a lot better once we find Kelly and Luke."

"And Connie."

"And Connie." She wished she could feel more hopeful on that front. Miko squeezed her shoulder and she relaxed slightly, trying to push the dark thoughts away for now. There'd been too many of them already. There were always too many. But just for tonight she wanted to escape them, to hide away in Miko's lap and absorb every touch, every smell, every word . . . that she had come so close to never experiencing again.

. . .

" _How can you lose me? You've owned me from the first moment I saw you."_

― _Dianna Hardy, Cry Of The Wolf_

_. . ._

The full gravity of the world ending fell upon Yumiko within a matter of hours, there'd been no time to trivialize or hope. Right from the start, she'd felt the impact.

Her mother had been a doctor in the old world and she'd been working a shift at the hospital when the outbreak hit the city and surrounding areas. Yumiko's stomach still turned at the memory of calling her up from the safety of Magna's apartment, her eyes trained on the insanity playing out across every news station, her heart pounding as she pleaded, _pleaded_ for the other woman to pick up, to be alright, to-

But the phone had rung and rung. One, two, twelve phone calls later and _nothing_.

\----

_Unable to sit and wait any longer, Yumiko swiped her abandoned keys off the table and marched towards the door, ready to drive over there right that second and_ _ **make**_ _her mother okay. She was smart, her mother was smart, and resourceful, and she'd never stopped practicing krav maga - and Yumiko would definitely come to regret refusing all those classes the woman had tried to get her to enroll in growing up but she_ _'d been focused on her books and her studies and all her dreams for a future that fighting never entered into-_

_Her mother would be_ _ **fine** _ _._

_But a hand grabbed hers - strong, nails almost biting into her skin - and pulled her back. "You can't go out there."_

_Magna._

At some point, she'd forgotten the other woman was even there, just whose home she stood barricaded within.

_"I have to get to the hospital, my mother she-"_

_"Yumiko, you saw the news - hell, you just almost got your face bitten off by one of those sickos - the world's fucking lost it._ _" Her face took on an expression of incredulity. "And you want to go to the fucking hospital? No, no way."_

_Yumiko clenched her jaw, trying not to snap. "She's my mother. I_ _**need** _ _to make sure she's okay."_

_"I know, OK? Trust me I get it but . . ." she took a breath, frustrated, and Yumiko could detect an air of desperation in the way she closed her eyes, pressed her lips together. "But you just- you can't, okay? They said that part of the city is already overrun and it's a_ _**hospital**_ _. The number of people in there,_ _**dying**_ _people . . . it's a death trap."_

_Yumiko looked away, knowing she was right but unwilling to face it. It was her_ _**mother** _ _._

_For a spiteful moment, she wondered whether Magna really did_ _'get it'. As far as she knew, the other woman hadn't visited her own mother since she was a child. Yumiko didn't even know if she was still alive - or if Magna knew for that matter._

_"Look, I . . . " Magna shook her head. "If I thought that it could work, that we'd be able to help, hell even be able to get_ _**in** _ _there, I would drive you myself."_

_"You don't have a license." She wasn't_ _sure why she said it, why out of all the things Magna was saying,_ _**that**_ _had stuck out the most. But it was the only thing she had the means to protest._

_Magna huffed. "Fine, I'd let you drive but that-that's not the point. Miko, we don't even know how to kill these things. I stabbed that guy in the neck and he barely even flinched. The dead are eating people, I can't . . ." She shook her head. "I can't protect you from that."_

_Yumiko cursed the way those words made her stomach flip -_ _**not**_ _the time. Her phone felt heavy in her pocket, useless, and her mind was a violent hellscape, tossing up image after image of all the situations that could be keeping her mother from answering but . . ._

_**Fuck it.** _

_She was right._

_The world shook for a moment, shaky legs almost falling out from under her as she allowed herself to sink to the floor, hiding her head in her hands._ _**She was right**_ _. The darkness made everything still and she could imagine for a moment that this wasn't really happening, that it was just some big messed up nightmare, that-_

_People were fucking_ _ **eating**_ _people, for god's sakes._ _**Dead**_ _people. How_ _ **could**_ _this be real?_

_There was a pause, the sound of shuffling, and she felt a stiff form settle beside her. Hesitantly, an arm came around her, too lose, too distant, but there. "I'm sorry."_

_Yumiko shook her head, forgetting entirely Magna's discomfort when it came to any kind of physical intimacy - hell, any kind of intimacy in general - and allowed herself to collapse. Falling into her, she buried her head in the other woman's chest, hands coming up to latch onto the fabric of her shirt, desperate for something, anything to hold onto._

_Magna flinched and her body grew hard like a rock, rebelling at every place of contact between them._

_Remembering herself, Yumiko moved to withdraw, "Shit, sorry, I-" but the arm around her tightened, keeping her in place. Slowly, she felt the muscles against her force themselves to relax as that arm found a surer purchase, pulling her closer. After a moment, she felt the slight weight of a chin coming to rest on her head, a hand coming up to find one of hers. Disentangling Yumiko's almost rabid hold, they wrapped around her and squeezed, held tight and this-_

_This was better._

_"Stay."_

_She did._

_. . ._

" _I am your friend. a soul for your soul. a place for your life. home. know this. sun or water. here or away. we are a lighthouse. we leave. and we stay."_

― _Nayyirah Waheed_

_. . ._

Magna knew that Miko's upbringing had been a fair bit more stable than hers. Parents divorced at thirteen, yes, but that was terribly common wasn't it? _(and neither of them had tried to shoot the other)._ She'd graduated at the top of her class, whilst Magna had been kicked out of three schools for fighting before her aunt and uncle had given up and stopped sending her at all. It wasn't a huge loss. The only classes she'd been doing well in were art and P.E. And whilst she had missed those it was a relief to get away from the taunting students and judgmental teachers.

Considering her criminal record that kept her from working at anything other than a seedy truck stop with its overly handsy customers, that had probably worked out for the best. Good grades wouldn't have been of any help to her at that point.

She still laughed sometimes at the memory of Miko popping by on her shifts, how out of place she'd looked, sitting on a rickety stool behind the counter whilst Magna tended customers, still dressed in a suit from work that never seemed to wrinkle.

The pair of them had garnered more than a few looks.

But Miko had been at ease with it, picking at her fries - the only food on the menu that would probably pass a health inspection - making small talk, interjecting with the occasional complaint about Jerry, the company vulture, who kept trying to steal her clients. Magna had been confused by the attention, wary even. She'd wondered if the lawyer checked up on all her former clients like this, or if she was just a special case. She hadn't asked - she hadn't wanted to know the answer, to face the inevitable 'yes'.

A part of Magna had wanted to scare her off, had hated the way she got instantly on edge as soon as she saw Miko's silhouette enter through the door, the way she felt even worse when she watched her leave out it. But another, more secret part, had been starved for company - the kind that didn't make her want to punch someone, anyway. So she'd held her tongue, and slowly let her defenses down.

Until one night, a trucker had tried to bite a chunk out of Miko's face.

It had been her turn to work the truck stop diner connected to the store, and Yumiko had been leaning against the counter, nursing a cup of too-sweet hot chocolate and conversing with her between customers. She'd glanced down at her phone upon hearing a _ping_ and Magna had looked up at the sound, glimpsed the man lumbering closer, closer - too close.

She'd never been so glad for the quick reflexes life had beaten into her, because in that moment she hadn't needed to think. She'd shoved Miko back, a little too forcefully since she ended up hitting the ground with a _smack_ that made Magna wince - but it was enough.

Her hand had been grabbing the knife from beneath the bench before she'd even registered, her arm jolting with the shock of sinking it into flesh that gave way too easily as she leapt across the counter, blood spattering against her face in a terrible deja vu, her stomach turning - _fuck fuck fuck_ \- but he didn't fall, didn't scream; and then she'd grabbed Miko, tugged her up and ran, ears howling with the sound of all hell breaking loose around them. The police sirens in her head hadn't been real, she'd known they weren't, they couldn't be, not this soon, but her heart pounded in her chest from more than just adrenaline and fuck-

She'd done it again.

And just when she was finally starting to get used to freedom.

She hadn't realized until later that night, hauled up in her apartment - it had been closest and neither of them had really wanted to be alone after _that -_ and watching the actual End of Days unfold on international television, that it had been the first time they'd touched. Magna had always kept a certain level of distance and Miko had never tried to cross it. Not until later that night, when Magna had reached out to stop her from leaving, when she'd collapsed into her arms with an ease that made Magna want to run out the door instead . . . and later when Miko grabbed her hand as she was heading to bed. It was just a moment, just a brief squeeze accompanied by a weak but grateful smile - but Magna had felt her heart try to escape her chest at that smile, at that touch . . .

It had just been a push. Barely anything compared to getting someone out of jail at least twelve years - though more likely an entire _lifetime_ \- earlier than expected. Especially when she still hadn't known that the person she'd been fighting so hard to free wasn't nearly as innocent as she'd assumed.

Somehow, the most surprising event of the night, was that Magna hadn't minded the touch, hadn't pulled away. More shocking, she'd missed it when it was gone; had felt empty each time Miko left her grasp, yearned to reach out and-

And that was when Magna had known she was screwed.

Miko told her that she'd known the same thing sometime around the third day of planning their trial strategy.

Thirteen years later and they were still pretty screwed.

. . .

" _I've spent much too long in the space between staying and letting go."_

_\- Perry Poetry_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this story has turned out to be a lot more Magna-centric then intended and that's not because I love Yumiko any less, I just find it easier to get inside the heads of characters like Magna. I'm used to writing somewhat dysfunctional people with more than a bit of trauma (probably cos I have a bit of trauma of my own lol). You know, the loveable walking disasters of the world. She might come off a bit ooc in this and that's partly because I'm still familiarizing myself with writing her and because she's a tad bit fragile after everything that's happened, which i think we all saw in last episode - Miko is also feeling pretty fragile for the same reason. Speaking of which. What. The. Fuck. It makes zero sense to me that these two would make up but still not get back together and I'm gonna sue the writers for torture if this keeps going on. So I had to write a fix-it fic. And I also felt like there was a lot these two still needed to talk about that I'm not entirely confident the show will ever address so voila a fic was made.
> 
> Also, just gonna note going forth that Magna’s own feelings about herself aren’t necessarily a reflection of my own feelings about her character. Girl’s got some insecurities to sort through. Likewise, her judgments - good and bad - about Yumiko aren’t necessarily true, either, for the same reason. It’s one of the causes for conflict in their relationship.
> 
> So there are probably two ways to look at how these two might have noticed they had feelings for each other: a) these two idiots have been in love for 13 years and were both too chicken and oblivious to do do anything about it, or b) their love developed slowly from the bonds of friendship over a very long time. I like both options but I decided to go with the former for this fic.
> 
> The series titles is from the song You by Keaton Henson. If you're familiar with the song - my Lost Girl buddies will be - don't worry nobody is going to die! that line just really fits them so much, and it's also about accepting the fact that you might lose the one you love but that doesn't mean you should be afraid of loving them or living your life.
> 
> . . .
> 
> OK, just gonna do a little shameless self-promotion, hope you don't mind :)
> 
> I made a yumagna vid so if you haven't seen it already and you're interested it's here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=grzrpr0QZEE  
> (I'm gonna do more so if you want to stay in the loop subscribe to my youtube channel. I'll probs end up doing a short one for Unsteady because of this fic but I'm holding out till we get a yumagna hug)
> 
> I have an insta for yumagna called @yumagnas.home . my multifandom one is @bonnielextra (lots of awesome women that i make edits for just fyi) and my personal one is @cissyalice. Hit me up so I can follow some more yumagna stans!
> 
> My twitter is @bonnielextra and @tocaritas (for my edits). Currently just a lot of crying about yumagna on the first one.
> 
> And my tumblr is welcometocaritas. Obviously no pressure to look at any of these but I just thought I'd put them in just case :)


	2. So I Came For Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter and is basically just a little look at Magna’s history (I’ll be getting into Yumiko’s around about chapter 6).
> 
> I really didn’t mean to make Magna’s backstory as angsty as I did, it just sort of . . . happened as I was trying to figure out where her head’s been at with her relationship with Yumiko, and why she’s been doing some of the things she has. I don’t take some of the situations I’ve used lightly, especially since they can be extremely triggering for people and I wanted everyone in the fandom to be able to read this. The child sexual abuse is in there because I’m pretty sure that’s what the show was implying when they mentioned Magna’s cousin. Everything’s pretty much implied or referenced. I don’t think I go into great detail. There are no actual scenes with the stuff. 
> 
> So I’ve done some half-assessed calculations that are probably shit but I’m gonna go with them for the sake of this story - I’m a little worried that lack of sleep might have made me mess up some of the maths but oh well. I used the actresses’ real ages for this, went back 10 years to before the apocalypse so Yumiko would have been around 27 and Magna around 22. Now Magna had to have been out of prison long enough to get a job - which is NOT easy to do but I decided to grant her a stroke of luck and had her being out of prison for around at least a year. Now Michonne mentioned hard prison time - whether Magna actually experienced much of this time, or if it was just that she expected to and got a tattoo before being allowed out early is up in the air - and I’ve gone with giving her about three-four years in prison, because I didn’t really want to drop below the age of 17 for her being sentenced. I'm headcannoning their meeting when Miko was 24 and Magna was 19, so about her second-third year in prison. 
> 
> Also my understanding of the law is . . . not great? I basically only know what I’ve gleaned from reading about injustices and corruption in the system so if you’re a lawyer and notice any mistakes please don’t crucify me and I didn’t do much research for this story when I normally do heaps cos I wanted to get it finished quickly. However, I have based a lot of the incidents mentioned throughout this fic on real situations/cases that I’ve read about so there is that element of truth to it. I did my best anyway. I think the issue will be that there are a lot of variations between states and laws changing over the years. I recently fell down a Proven Innocent rabbit hole because Rachelle Lefevre playing a bisexual is hard to pass up and, like with Nadia Hilker, I’m addicted to her hair (Abbey knows I have a thing for hair, she understands my weakness when it comes to these things).

" _I learned at a young age that if I was ever going to see justice for the wrongs done to me, I had to find it myself."_

― _Erin Merryn_

. . .

Magna didn't think she'd ever regret what she did - the bastard deserved it, and if the justice system wasn't such a joke she never would have had to go to such _lengths_ \- but she did regret what it had done to her relationship with Miko. What _she_ had done. Lying wasn't difficult for her - even if she had always preferred a more blunt approach, along with the honesty that entailed - but lying to _Yumiko_ had been . . .

She'd hated every second of it. Hated even more the toxic resentment that had started to build up inside her as a result, the way a gentle kiss could make her stomach turn, her thoughts sickening her as they bubbled up from the dark pit in which she tried to keep them contained; the number of times a loving look had made her want to snap, to let the truth fly free and watch as everything between them burned to ash.

(it'd be everything she had been waiting for, after all - for _thirteen years)_

Because Miko . . . Miko was so _good._ And she cared so much, sometimes more than Magna could bear, and none of it was real. All those feelings had grown from a lie that she'd never had the courage to uproot, to set before them and watch as the disgust bled into her lover's - her _best friend_ _'s -_ eyes. Because Miko thought _she_ was good as well, and whilst Magna didn't think that what she'd done was wrong, she also knew it wasn't _right._ Justice, maybe- _definitely_ , but not Miko's version of justice. Not part of the framework she had chosen to study and dedicate her life to. Magna's version of justice didn't fit in her world - couldn't - and worse . . .

Neither did Magna.

She hadn't been able to trust Yumiko's love for her, that it could withstand the impact of truly _knowing_ her; and in the end, she'd only sabotaged what she had hoped to protect. She was self-aware enough to realize that part of that had been intentional. When their relationship had crossed over the border of friendship, when they had gotten all that more close ( _too close)_ something inside Magna had rebelled. Something panicky and defensive, revolting at the love that was building inside her, the safety she felt lying in Miko's arms (a place she never wanted to leave); that fear that it was only temporary, too temporary, that one day Miko would wake up and realize just who she'd fallen into bed with, and then it would all be over. The longer it continued the worse it would hurt. She hadn't been able to wait around for it to get to that stage. Instead, she'd forced the gears into rapid motion, propelling herself towards that inevitable heartbreak whilst she still had some heart left for herself, before she gave it all away to Miko.

(and deep down, knowing it was already too late, that Yumiko had taken her heart _years_ ago, and Magna had barely murmured a protest)

It had been impulsive. And _stupid_.

And after everything was said and done it still fucking hurt. It hurt so much she could barely breathe in the aftermath.

She hadn't been able to save herself from that.

And she'd tried to explain to Miko why she'd done it but it had been a poor attempt, born more out of spite than any rational thinking. She hadn't even really tried. Because in the end, she hadn't seen the point. Wasted energy. Wasted hope. She couldn't see a future in which Miko would be able to understand. To understand and forgive her and love her still.

Because she _couldn_ _'t_ understand, not really.

(and sometimes she hated her for that)

Because Miko was a good-ass-fucking lawyer and she had _seen_ the system work as a result, but all Magna had ever known were its failures: how she'd had to move in with her uncle and his wife after her mum had gone to prison for killing her own _father_ , never mind that it had been in self-defense; and later, watching the sick bastard who'd preyed on her cousin be allowed to walk free even after pleading guilty - rather, from what she'd gathered, _because_ he had pled guilty, his easy compliance and willingness to accept a deal leading him to walk free with barely a slap on the wrist fine, along with registering as a level 1 sex offender. People couldn't even search his name or address on the local registry when he was considered that low a risk.

How the fuck was any of that _justice_?

Though, she supposed she should be grateful, in a way. That same system that had wreaked havoc across her life had also allowed her to be released after only serving three years when Miko had found far too many ways to poke holes in her case; much better than the life sentence she'd been staring into ever since she'd left the courthouse for the final time.

To be fair, the case against her had been less than flimsy in the first place, the evidence circumstantial at best - they'd never even found the murder weapon. Surprisingly, all those cop shows she'd binged growing up actually came in handy for something. She wasn't an idiot, she'd planned ahead, did what she could to cover up.

But she'd also been realistic. She'd known back when the crime was still only a hypothetical in her head that getting away with it was the least likely of outcomes, that she'd probably go to prison, maybe even for the rest of her life. But as long as _he_ didn't get to live _his -_ as long as he wasn't given a chance to do to _another_ child what he'd done to her cousin -that had seemed like an acceptable price. It wasn't like she'd had much going for her, anyway. Hell, given the state of her bank account and failed education, she probably would have ended up going to jail for petty theft one day, regardless.

And at least you got free boarding and meals in prison - though she would have rather starved and slept on the street than feel the suffocating entrapment of incarceration every second of her life, to the point that when freedom did come it was _that_ which felt unnatural to her.

If Magna's court-appointed lawyer hadn't been breaking under the weight of over a hundred ongoing cases she might never have been sentenced in the first place. Not that she had even had it in her to care at the time. Even now, those months were almost a complete blank in her memory. She could remember that she'd been in a daze for most of it, that she hadn't been feeling much of anything - a welcome liberation from the all-consuming rage that had burned within her for months before she drew that knife: not when the police locked her in handcuffs that pinched at her skin; not sitting in that courtroom with the press of too many people's eyes on her; and not when the door to her prison cell had slammed shut for the first time.

She could maybe recall her lawyer snapping at her more than once, frustrated and helpless as she refused to offer more than the occasional one word answer or grunt.

Years later, when Miko had finally come onto the scene, she'd been far more awake to her circumstances; too awake.

But she'd do it all over again, even now. Even with the memory of _that look_ haunting the space between her and Miko, the way her heart had drawn in on itself, shuddering under the weight of all the judgment she'd expected but still hadn't been prepared for.

He _deserved_ it.

How could she let him just walk away?

How did Magna explain to Miko that the law she'd devoted her life to was nothing but shit? It was all gone now, anyway, the system that had ruined her life fallen away into dust along with the rest of civilization.

But Miko . . . Miko still looked on that lost world fondly, she _missed_ it in a way that Magna never could and . . . even with all that rage boiling inside of her, begging her for an outlet, she couldn't _take_ that from her; didn't want to.

One of them should have something worth remembering in this nightmare.

Magna could be selfish. She'd be the first to admit it. But she was also incredibly selfish about the people she loved. They came first - fuck the rest of the world. And Miko . . . Miko was on the top of that list. It had _killed_ her, being stuck in that cave, knowing that she had hurt her, that the last thing she would probably ever do in her sorry life was hurt the only woman she had ever loved.

And she _wouldn_ _'t_ do that again.

Except she probably would. Because that's what she did.

She messed everything up. Including her and Miko.

But maybe that was for the best. She and Miko . . . they weren't compatible. They were like oil and water that had fallen into the same bowl and ended up stuck together, but always separate; Magna heavy and sinking to the bottom whilst Yumiko floated to the top. Always.

They weren't meant to bond.

(but they did and they did it so well that-)

She didn't think she would ever be as open and trusting as Miko - but experience warned her that was probably a good thing, especially if she intended to survive in a world where the dead wanted to eat you and most of the living wanted to kill you. It scared her, how easily Miko - and even Connie and Luke - let people in. She was terrified it was going to get them killed one day.

Kelly was more like Magna in that respect. They were both always preparing themselves for the eventual fallout. It was why Magna hadn't even had to bring up the idea of creating a stash - they'd both already fallen into the familiar habit of scrounging away what they could. In the past, that kind of safety net had been the difference between life and death. She hadn't felt _good_ about it. Of course she hadn't. She _liked_ the people at Hilltop, as much as she liked anyone who she couldn't allow herself to grow attached to, and she was so fucking grateful to be taken in by them, to finally have a home. But homes never lasted. Even before the Apocalypse they were nothing but a false promise you would end up hanging yourself with if you didn't keep your guard up. And Yumiko, Connie, Luke and Kelly were _hers._ They were her people. And at the end of the day, they came first. She had to protect them. Even if it meant doing things that they would never agree with, things they might later end up hating her for.

And Kelly. . . Kelly understood that because she was hard in a way that the others weren't and she had _Connie_. Kelly would do anything for Connie.

The thing was, even if she and Yumiko decided to try again, even if they could move past this, Magna didn't think she could change that part of herself. She didn't _want_ to change it. How could she when it had the potential to keep Miko alive? She would rather destroy their relationship beyond repair than one day have to drive a knife through Miko's skull because she had failed to do the only thing she had ever been good at - keeping them just that little inch further away from death's door.

Ten years and most of their group was still alive whilst the rest of the world had become a sea of ravenous corpses and that . . . that had to count for _something._

_It had to._

. . .

" _What are you afraid of?_

_that you love him_

_or that you_ _'ve lost him_

_either way the heart beating in your chest_

_didn_ _'t originally belong to you."_

— _You_ _'ll Be Buried With Him Painted Over You by Abby S_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to think about what kind of life experiences might have shaped Magna to be someone who could do what she did. Cos no matter how many of us might want to punish bastards like that when they do commit these crimes, most of us don't actually do it. There are things that restrain us. Certain moral codes, fear, faith in the justice system, having things that we don't want to lose, not being ready to sacrifice our freedom and our future if we get caught. For whatever reason, most people just don't cross that line. So I thought a lot about what we'd seen of Magna and the kind of person she is and how her past might have shaped her to be able to make that choice. I mean Magna cares about the people she considers hers a lot and she's very protective, so that's obviously a large part of it, but I knew there also had to be more. Also it's my head cannon that Magna loves kids, like they're one of her weak spots, but she keeps her distance from them because they remind her of her cousin, and because of the person she's become since her cousin died.  
> . . .  
> OK, just gonna do a little shameless self-promotion, hope you don't mind :)
> 
> I made a yumagna vid so if you haven't seen it already and you're interested it's here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=grzrpr0QZEE  
> (I'm gonna do more so if you want to stay in the loop subscribe to my youtube channel. I'll probs end up doing a short one for Unsteady because of this fic but I'm holding out till we get a yumagna hug)
> 
> I have an insta for yumagna called @yumagnas.home . my multifandom one is @bonnielextra (lots of awesome women that i make edits for just fyi) and my personal one is @cissyalice. Hit me up so I can follow some more yumagna stans!
> 
> My twitter is @bonnielextra and @tocaritas (for my edits). Currently just a lot of crying about yumagna on the first one.
> 
> And my tumblr is welcometocaritas. Obviously no pressure to look at any of these but I just thought I'd put them in just case :)


	3. Protection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, this chapter was such a bitch to write. The words did not flow right all, it’s so clumsy. So huge apology in advance. 
> 
> TW: there's a brief mention of drug overdose in this chapter

" _For a long time after his rescue, Buck did not like Thornton to get out of his sight. From the moment he left the tent to when he entered it again, Buck would follow at his heels. His transient masters since he had come into the Northland had bred in him a fear that no master could be permanent. He was afraid that Thornton would pass out of his life as Perrault and Francois and the Scotch half-breed had passed out. Even in the night, in his dreams, he was haunted by this fear. At such times he would shake off sleep and creep through the chill to the flap of the tent, where he would stand and listen to the sound of his master's breathing."_

_\- The Call of the Wild by Jack London_

. . .

Magna had never been good at romantic relationships. They were too . . . messy. Too complicated. Too many ways for things to go wrong. She and Miko hadn't even been together for a year and it was still the longest any of her relationships - if you could even call them that - had lasted. In a way, she'd been waiting for it all to fall apart from the moment it started.

Friendship, she could do. She knew how to be a friend - she'd been doing it for over a decade. She knew better how to deal with those expectations.

But the way that sometimes she felt like she couldn't _breathe_ when Miko was away from her, the punch of air back into her lungs when they touched, the constant _need ._..

She didn't know how to deal with that. Wasn't _comfortable_ with dealing with that. Or that ever-present fear at the back of her mind - what would she do if one day Miko went away and never came back?

(She wondered if her mother had felt this way about her father once

\- recoiled)

It was illogical, but a part of her hoped that if she could just put a little distance between them, if she could push them back over that line they'd dared to cross, then maybe it wouldn't hurt as much when she finally lost her.

Stupid.

She suspected she would always feel this way about Yumiko, whether they were friends or lovers . . . or even if one day they became strangers to each other. Her heart wasn't good at letting people go. It was hard to find a way in, but once someone _did_ . . .they never left. And maybe she resented Miko for how deeply she'd buried herself. But Magna had let her do it. Miko hadn't forced her way in - she wouldn't - she didn't have to. She had kept to the edges patiently until slowly, inch by inch, Magna had opened the door for her.

She had been the first person she'd learnt to trust again after prison. In truth, she'd made it possible for her to go on to trust others. Connie, Kelly and Luke - hell even Bernie - hadn't had to wait nearly as long. She was still unsure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Whether it made her weaker or stronger. It certainly provided her with more to lose, more room for betrayal.

But it did make life easier to bear in a way.

Gave her a reason to be.

She'd grown up looking after her brother and cousins. In prison and after, she'd floundered somewhat without that purpose. When they'd formed their group, which had been so much larger than it eventually became, she'd fallen back into her old role.

She'd found that purpose again.

But just as she'd failed to protect her cousin, she'd also failed to protect Bernie and Connie, and everyone else in their group who had fallen over the years. The people who Magna hadn't known quite as well or been nearly as attached to but still felt responsible for.

There'd been one child. Sarah. Twelve years old. She'd entered their group only briefly - had left it, first, after one single tiny inconsequential bite; and, finally, at the end of Magna's knife. Like Maisie, she was a black hole in her memory that she took care to shy away from, lest she fall into it.

She also tried not to think about what might have become of her remaining cousins, who she hadn't seen since before prison. Her brother had overdosed at the beginning of her third year inside - she still blamed herself for not being there to stop him - and she couldn't decide if that was better or worse: surviving like they were, or dying before you were forced to see what became of the world and humanity. Morgan had never been good with violence. Had closed his eyes during fight scenes on TV, whilst she pulled on his hair teasingly and stole popcorn from his unprotected lap. He wouldn't have made it here. Or if he had, he would have hated himself for it.

He wouldn't have been able to live with murder. Not like Magna.

He'd never even visited her in prison.

It wasn't . . . anger, or revulsion. He just hadn't been able to face what she'd done, to align it with the memories he'd had of the girl who'd taught him to tie his shoelaces and how to make daisy chains.

(and perhaps the memory of the fight they'd had after Maisie died had also kept him away, kept him distant - the only real fight they'd ever had, in which Magna had completely lost it at him for ditching the child he was supposed to be babysitting because the girl he'd had a crush on for the last three months had called him up at the last second to invite him to come around. Even now, so many years later, she was still a mess of resentment for that, and haunted by the guilt and regret of throwing it in his face, for never apologizing, for never hugging him after that point and . . .)

In truth: she hadn't wanted him to come, to see her in that place. She didn't know what to say to him. What could she say? That she was _sorry_? She wasn't. She didn't even regret it. It would have been too much of a struggle for him to wrap his head around.

Like Miko, he'd had a firm sense of right and wrong; a rigid morality.

Magna had always been far more flexible with hers. She didn't mind the grey areas, the places people were scared to look at too long. They made sense to her, in a way black and white never could.

. . .

" _I told her once I wasn't good at anything. She told me survival is a talent."_

― _Susanna Kaysen, Girl, Interrupted_

_. . ._

_(_ _'We could've taken those walkers.'_

' _We had a split-second decision to make-'_

' _You made the decision.'_

' _Look, when shit hits the fan, somebody's got to step up._

 _So, yeah, I listen to what everybody has to say, I weigh it all up-_ _'_

' _And then you do what you were gonna do anyway.'_

' _Where the hell is all of this coming from?'_

' _You're not my lawyer anymore.')_

At the back of her mind, there'd always been a part of her that worried that Miko felt responsible for her. It was the only thing that made sense as to why she'd chosen to stick around, even before the world ended. Why she would bully Magna into weekly coffee dates and used up most of her gas constantly visiting the truck stop just so she could keep her company during her shifts - and prevent her from losing her mind from boredom, which had been an ever-growing possibility before Yumiko had taken to showing up regularly.

She was a do-gooder; Magna had surmised that almost within the first thirty minutes of meeting her.

When she'd gotten out of prison, she'd noticed how Miko's house was never quite clean of the overabundance of dog and cat hair from the stray animals she couldn't seem to stop herself from collecting. She took cases on pro bono and in the nearly three years Magna had known her, had spent every Christmas volunteering at a soup kitchen - something she only knew about because her mother had called up Magna before her first Christmas on the outside to try and get her to talk Miko into spending the holidays at home; and of course 'Yumi' could bring her new friend along, because Magna worked far too hard and wasn't it just the cruelest thing to make an old woman (Yumiko's mother was only forty-five) spend the night alone in her old, empty apartment? And, well, her daughter _listened_ to Magna you see . . .

Magna had quickly agreed and hung up before Yumiko's mother tried to _adopt_ her on the off chance that her daughter might visit more if her childhood home grew to contain one disgruntled young ex-con with _far_ too many tattoos for such a 'beautiful girl' like her - and she'd been already getting cabin fever just from _speaking_ on the phone to Miss Nakamura.

It had been somewhat frustrating to realize the older woman was right when Miko caved within a minute of Magna trying to convince her to spend Christmas with her mother, on the condition that _she_ came along as well (the outbreak had saved Magna from having to make good on that deal, something that over the years she'd actually grown to find somewhat regrettable, if only because it would have been nice to have another memory of Miko being happy to look back on).

The fact of the matter was, though, that when someone was in trouble, Yumiko couldn't keep herself away. It was exasperating (and endearing).

Magna might have rolled her eyes - because she had a hard time believing anyone would do something for nothing, for no more reason than that they wanted to help, in any way they could - except she _knew_ Miko and she knew it was genuine. That it wasn't just a way to make herself look better, or to fluff up her ego with the knowledge of how _good_ she was. She did it because she cared, because she couldn't do _nothing_ when there was an option of doing _something._

So she'd saved the younger woman from prison, found an apartment block that wasn't too expensive or degraded, and helped her get a job when all Magna had been faced with were rejections.

And if she hadn't needed that help, to be looked after in the beginning, she wondered if Miko would have even bothered to keep in contact. Because, really, what else was there to attract a talented lawyer from an upper middle class family to a high school drop-out only recently out of prison, who at that point could aspire to little more than working all-night shifts at a seedy truck stop?

It was a question that had kept Magna up at night, made the weight of Miko's head on her chest almost suffocating.

The apocalypse had changed things, yes. Suddenly, Magna's prison experience and history of getting into fist fights was useful. Her distrustful nature and, at times, questionable morality were the kind of personality traits that might just keep you alive in this hell. She didn't need to be good at maths or literature or humanities. Magna could knock a man three times her weight flat on his back the second things turned sideways and still have enough stamina to take on another, and another.

So, she could understand, then, why Yumiko had stuck by her after civilization fell. She didn't question that.

But Miko liked to control things, to know that everything was in its place and everyone was alright, everyone was _safe_ -and in some ways that extended to Magna.

Yumiko had graduated top of her class - both from high school _and_ law school - and, whether she realized it or not, had gotten used to being the smartest person in the room, the most level-headed. She'd never admit to it openly but Magna knew that a lot of the time she thought she knew best - and a lot of the time she did. But it could make Magna feel like such an _idiot,_ sometimes, in her presence.

(like back when they'd been going over trial strategies all those years ago and Yumiko had listened patiently to every idea Magna threw at her, only to later reject them all anyway and that was okay, because Magna was the prisoner and Yumiko was the lawyer and she'd already fucked this up for herself once but that was then, and this was now and-)

She would inwardly - and all too often outwardly - bristle and fume, stalking off before Yumiko had a chance to stop her, before she had to look a second longer at that confused and worried - and _hurt_ \- face.

Because Magna wasn't an idiot.

She wasn't _smart,_ not the kind of smart that Miko was, that the other kids at school were, and in the way the teachers wanted her to be, but she knew things. She knew how to survive. To survive in a world that didn't and never had wanted her.

And if Miko didn't realize that - if, even after all these years, she could look upon Magna the same way her aunt had, her brother had, every fucking school teacher that had ever shaken their head and sighed at a lost cause had; that very same pity and defeat that had come to rest upon her lawyer's face within only fifteen minutes of meeting her . . . all that condescension and exasperation and _disappointment_ -

If she looked at her like that, thought of her in that way, then why the hell would Miko want to be with her in the first place? What would keep her from moving on to someone else, someone smarter, less impulsive, less of a handful . . . someone _better?_

Just because she hadn't already didn't mean she never would. It wasn't like they had been spoiled for choice over the last ten years, there weren't a lot of viable dating candidates in the middle of the apocalypse - especially if you were a lesbian. Or, at least, that had been the case until they'd encountered Alexandria; until they'd moved into Hilltop, and traveled down to Oceanside for fortnightly training routines; until they'd been suddenly surrounded by so many people, so many smart and stable and kind people, many of them with only half as many issues as Magna, even less of them possessing her caustic attitude and liability to fuck things up.

Eventually, Yumiko would start to notice, start to look, start to _wonder_. . . and then she would be gone.

Except . . . they had been living at Hilltop for a year and the only time Yumiko had looked like she was even considering walking away was when Magna had _forced_ her to. And even that hadn't been enough to make her leave, not really.

Even that hadn't stopped Miko from latching onto her after she'd stepped out of the horde, from looking at her like she'd just arrived with a gallon of water for someone who'd been lost in a desert for weeks. It hadn't stopped her from holding onto Magna, minutes, hours later, even after she was assured of her well-being.

She didn't look at her like a stray dog that pity had forced her to take in and which she now couldn't get rid of. She didn't blame Magna for not having Connie with her, for not being _good enough_ and capable enough to save her - even though she had to know it was her fault; because she'd _had_ Connie, she'd had her hand in hers, and she'd just . . . let it slip away.

She'd let her down. Just like she'd let Bernie down. And her brother and-and . . . _Maisie_.

She let everyone down.

Her own mother had gone to prison because Magna had been too scared to testify in court, to convince a jury that it wasn't her fault, that she was _good,_ that she'd only been trying to stop her husband from thrusting that broken beer bottle at her daughter's face after Magna had accidentally knocked three coronas to the floor.

She let Miko down.

She'd lied to her for thirteen years and she'd convinced herself that she was doing it for both of them, that she was only saving the other woman from a pain she didn't _have_ to experience, she was keeping her close, where Magna could keep her alive, keep her safe . . .

But she knew, deep down, from the very beginning, that the only person she was protecting was herself.

And she didn't even do that right.

But Miko had punched Carol in the face - _Yumiko_ had punched someone, calm level-headed Miko who thought violence was a fool's weapon when you could achieve something just by _talking,_ and had made a living out of doing exactly that _-_ she'd punched someone, for Magna, and demanded that _they_ beg _her_ forgiveness. And she'd never seen her so furious, so reckless, so willing to make an enemy out of someone when it would gain her nothing.

And she had done it all for Magna.

And, somehow, that sight had terrified her more than the thought of Miko walking away ever had.

(She hears the _squelch_ as the knife sinks in, feels the unexpected spray of blood against her young face - hears the shot, the weight of a body collapsing on her, sees Miko's horrified face-)

Because she'd realized then, that all her suspicions, all her fears . . . they were nothing, they'd been _for_ nothing. Because she'd understood then that Miko would never walk away, not from her. No matter what she did, what she'd _done . . ._

She may still doubt it, sometimes, may always doubt it because that was what Magna _did_ \- she doubted things . . .

But now she _knew._

She knew Yumiko loved her. Would always love her.

And Magna had never wanted to run away faster in her life.

Because the only time Yumiko had looked at her like she'd let her down was that night in their room, when she'd pulled the rug out from under her, obliterating thirteen years of blind trust.

She had already hurt her once. And if she loved Magna as much as _she_ loved _Miko,_ then there was no telling the kind of pain she could cause her. She could _break_ Miko's heart - more than break, she could destroy it - and she wasn't sure she trusted herself not to; to not ruin the only good thing that had ever happened to her.

. . .

" _I wonder if I will ever have the strength to hold onto something. Or if I will always be someone who destroys."_

― _Ally Condie, Matched_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for sticking with this story. I would really appreciate if you commented and let me know what you think about how things are going so far, what you like or don’t like. I’m working really hard on this and it would be a huge deal to me. 
> 
> In other news, I have the idea for two sequel oneshots to this now. One of them fluffy, the other a little bit less so but not as angsty as this either.


	4. To Be Known

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so these two finally start sorting out some of their shit in this chapter. Magna has Issues™ and Yumiko is still very hurt but they love each other enough to make it work. They just need to work on their communication.

" _To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is, well, a lot like being loved by God. It is what we need more than anything. It liberates us from pretense, humbles us out of our self-righteousness, and fortifies us for any difficulty life can throw at us."_

― _Timothy Keller, The Meaning of Marriage: Facing the Complexities of Commitment with the Wisdom of God_

* * *

Magna's skin itched, trapped inside the filthy clothes she'd been wearing for what had to be four days now - though time had been hard to keep track of when they'd still been in the cave, nothing but darkness and more darkness. She'd seen light when the others had disappeared out of the opening, but she didn't know whether that meant it was the same day they'd ended up trapped inside, or if night had come and gone beyond their sight. The not knowing had itched at her every bit as relentlessly as her clothes did now - not knowing how long she'd been away from Miko, completely ignorant to the multitude of horrors that could have struck already during that time; what hardships the other woman could be enduring whilst Magna was stuck miles away, unable to do a thing.

Things could turn sideways in an instant. Safety and survival were never assured, never something to be counted on. Magna had learnt that even before the world went to hell and it was a truth that had only become more concrete in the decade since.

And yet it was a thing she'd forgotten that day she'd set out from Hilltop without a goodbye, not even looking back for one last glimpse of the only person she'd ever allowed herself to fully love since her cousin.

She'd just . . . walked away.

Frustrated with herself, Magna pulled at the collar of her shirt - the thing almost seemed intent to strangle her; like it, too, stood in harsh judgment of her actions.

There was a stream nearby that Miko had helped her use to wash the blood and decay off her skin but there'd been no helping the state of her clothes, and nothing else to change into - in this moment, she missed the familiar embrace of her long coat; the thing was probably little more than a pile of ashes by now . . .

So besides feeling wildly uncomfortable, Magna knew she also had to stink, mostly because she could _smell_ it.

She would have felt self-conscious about the fact if she and Miko hadn't already held each other through worse states.

Still, she regretted adding yet another item to the list of reasons Miko had to find fault in her.

She had yet to complain about it, though. But, then, Miko rarely complained about anything. She endured everything with a grace that was almost frustrating.

\- Yumiko's voice trembling with barely suppressed fury, Magna's body jolting with the yell and following _crack_ -

She shifted and the hand in her hair moved down momentarily to stroke the side of her forehead, a soothing hum reverberating in the chest above her.

Magna closed her eyes and inhaled.

Miko broke the silence.

"I missed you," she commented, so easily, like she wasn't tearing at Magna's heart with each word.

She covered the feeling with a snort. "Really? I haven't exactly been the best company lately."

"Don't be an idiot," Miko scolded. "I love you. Of course, I missed you."

_Rip._

Magna tensed and she had to stop herself from reaching up to her chest, to check for entry wounds. It was nothing. Just her ribs after one too many times falling on them inside that cave. It was-

Thirteen years and still neither of them had said those words to each other. In so many ways, she had both dreaded and longed to hear them - even as she'd sensed their truth in almost everything the other woman did: the way Miko held her at night; the desperate urgency bleeding through their kisses, which was caused by so much more than just mere desire; the tenderness she would catch in Miko's gaze too often, meant only for her.

Sighing, Magna extracted herself from the safety of the other woman's lap, forcing her overworn body to sit up and face her.

The time for hiding was over.

The hand in her hair tensed for a second but let her go.

"Yumiko. . . what I _did._ _"_ She looked down. Because despite dancing around the topic, they still hadn't confronted it head on.

Something Magna had been grateful for.

But she knew they had to, or it would be just like before: Magna constantly afraid that one day Miko would look up and see her and _hate_ what she saw.

And history had proved that their relationship couldn't survive that fear dangling between them. Magna had tried, she really had . . .

But that had been her first mistake.

Miko sighed, shaking her head. "It was never about what you did, Magna. At least, not mostly. I know who you are. Inside, deep down. At least," her gaze dropped, "I thought I did until I found out you'd been lying to me for thirteen years. _Thirteen years_ , Magna, I . . ." This time her head shook with a speechless incapability to process her own words, the enormity of what they contained, and Magna felt something hot and heavy settle in her chest.

Guilt.

Not one of her regular emotions in recent years, but she was familiar enough to dread its approach.

She looked away for a moment, searching, as if the trees could provide her with the right words to apologize, to explain. She wasn't used to analyzing her own actions, to looking back and picking each move apart, studying it, organizing them into some crude field of data that actually made _sense_.

But . . . she'd had a lot of time to think in that cave. To wonder. And to regret.

Facing Yumiko once more, she took a breath. "I'm sorry. The longer I kept it a secret, the harder it became to tell you . . . until I just couldn't keep it a secret anymore."

It wasn't nearly enough of an explanation and it certainly wasn't much of an apology but it had still felt like pulling teeth.

Miko's expression was unreadable, almost blank. "I'm glad," she said bluntly and didn't miss the face Magna pulled in response. " _Really_." Seeing that she was still unconvinced, the lawyer sighed, taking a moment to collect the right words. "It's a part of you. And I've always, _always_ wanted to know all of you. Even the parts that hurt. But the lies . . ." She shook her head. "It made me feel like I couldn't trust you. Like I _didn_ _'t_ know you, not really."

Magna broke their gaze, latching onto one singular tree in the distance, trying to find something to hold onto that wasn't the hurt in Yumiko's eyes. "You're the only person who's ever really known me."

Yumiko nodded slowly, taking that in.

When she looked down again, the movement drew Magna's attention to their joined hands and she realized suddenly that, not only had she not let go after leaving her hold, she'd started squeezing too tight. Exhaling, she forced her grip to relax.

Miko was still here, she wasn't leaving, not yet.

She drew upon that for courage. "All my life, you're the only person who's ever looked at me like I'm actually worth something." True, Maisie had looked at her like she hung the stars, but that kid had loved everyone, the good and the bad, much like Judith - and it had taken everything in Magna to accept the expectant and oh so innocent hand held out to her that day, to not _run_.

And Connie, Kelly and Luke . . . they needed her and they cared for her. Magna was useful, she knew how to use a weapon and she'd drawn first blood even before the collapse of society had forced that out of the rest of them. She never hesitated - which had so often meant the difference between life and death. She kept them alive. Or, at least, she tried.

But it had been circumstance that had thrown them together, desperation. The apocalypse made for strange bedfellows and the fight for survival had just sort of made them . . . s _tick._

But Miko . . . Miko had _chosen_ her. She'd lived through the latter half of her prison days, her trial, and even after she'd succeeded in doing all she'd come to do, she'd stayed. She'd stayed when there had been nothing to keep her there.

Nothing but Magna.

Thirteen years later and she still didn't know what to do with that information.

Miko stared at her now, mouth opening and closing, eyes becoming wet. "It didn't," she broke out at last. "But it hurt so much to think that in all those years you'd never really trusted me. When I trusted _you_ most of all."

Magna looked away, the words like knives to her heart, punishing. "It was never about that."

"It was _completely_ about that," Miko hissed and Magna drew back on instinct, hand slipping away.

"I . . ." And maybe it had been. But that was never, she'd never meant to- ". . . I'm sorry."

Yumiko took a breath, looking up at the night sky as she tried to collect herself.

She was blinking back tears. The realization hit harder than any punch to the gut Magna had ever received.

 _She_ _'d_ done that.

She searched for something to say, something that would make this better, that would wipe the pain from Miko's face and return the smile that she'd first fallen in love with, all those years ago, even when the sight had scared her for the feelings it evoked. But all she could come up with was, "I'm sorry."

And she was.

She always had been, even beneath the white-hot rage that had been flooding her veins for weeks, that had led to her spewing out the truth to Miko before either of them had been ready - and yet, at the same time, arriving far too late. The resentment that had caused her to walk away so many times, to turn up the music in a dismissal that had been rude at best and cruel at worst.

She had always been sorry.

Hurting Miko had been like hurting herself, but she'd had enough practice in that arena to stubbornly charge ahead anyway.

For too long they sat in silence - Magna waiting; fearing; hoping. Just when she was beginning to think that it was all over, she'd ruined it, for real this time, she felt something brush against her fingers. Glancing down, she found that Miko's hand had inched back towards hers at some point, was now lying open on her thigh, inviting.

Hesitantly, Magna placed hers on top, the breath rushing into her lungs as Miko's hand closed around it, fastening into place; holding tight.

They sat in silence for a little longer - but it didn't hurt nearly as much.

"I know it's not easy for you to let people in," Yumiko granted at last. "But you can't shut me out again, not like that. You were so angry at me and I didn't even know _why_. This relationship, friendship, whatever we are to each other . . . it can't _work_. Not like that. Do you understand?"

Magna continued to avoid her eyes, knowing the desperate plea that would greet her if she didn't. "Yeah. I just . . ."

She breathed out, frustrated with herself, at her inability to articulate all the feelings raging inside her, the chaos of thoughts that attacked constantly, the confusing stream that even _she_ struggled to puzzle out.

Miko ducked her head, searching out Magna's eyes, urging her to look at her as she offered a faint smile. "I don't need all of you all at once. And we all have things that we deserve to keep to ourselves, if that's what we want." Now it was her turn to grip Magna's hand tight and she both ached and thrilled under the pressure. "But I need to know that you're trying. That this won't happen again. No more walls or passive-aggressive bullshit."

The snort escaped her before she could stop it. "You realize that that's like ninety percent of my personality, right?"

She rolled her eyes. " _Magna_ -" but she was already reaching out, catching the hand that wasn't tangled between them with her own, stilling her. "I'll try." Gently, Magna brought it down to rest in Miko's lap, bringing all their hands to join together at last. "I'm not good at any of this."

Miko's frown broke into a smile, teasing. "What? Having a romantic relationship with your best friend in the middle of an apocalypse?"

She allowed a slight a smirk at the words. "Best friend, huh?"

Elementary school her would be bouncing off the walls to hear that. Looked like she'd finally accomplished at least one thing in life. 

But Yumiko's expression had turned thoughtful as she spared only the slightest nod. "It goes both ways, you know?"

Magna frowned in confusion, opening her mouth but Miko was already continuing. "No one knows me better than you." She bit her lip and, drawn by the action, Magna's eyes flickered down against her control. She allowed the temptation to pass over her, refusing to give in. They weren't there. Not yet. "And you're the only person I still have from before. You're the only person who knows 'lawyer Yumiko', who remembers my mother, and how I used to be addicted to caramel frappuccinos with extra whipped cream and crazy amounts of chocolate syrup-"

"So gross."

Miko's eyes danced. "You've been by my side for thirteen years and I've loved you for almost every single one of them. There's no other person I'd want to be known by."

Magna's breath caught in her throat. "I . . ."

"Shh." Yumiko freed a hand, her thumb pressing against Magna's parted lips, a fleeting glance of pressure, before she soothed it over the hard rise of Magna's cheek. "You don't have to say it. I know. I've always known."

"But I . . ."

But she wanted to. Not for the first time, she felt the words pressing at the back of her throat, pleading to get out . . .

And still all she could do was choke on them.

"I _know_ , Magna."

* * *

" _i'm not so good at the 'words' thing," says the poet. says the author. says the girl who loves words more than anything else._

" _i'm not so good at the 'words' thing," she says, but it's not what she means. words are easy, woven syllables in a typed-up tapestry. truth is not as easy. emotions are not as easy._

 _she means to say,_ _"i don't know how to say this without cracking myself open." she means to say, "i don't know how to say this without bleeding." she means to say, "i know exactly how to say this, but i'm scared."_

_she means to say a lot of things, but all that comes out is:_

" _i'm not so good at the 'words' thing." and she doesn't mean it."_

_\- gallixie (tumblr)_

_..._

" _You can run away from yourself so often, and so much, just because the broken pieces of you cut your feet too deeply if you stay around for too long. But then what if someone were to come along and pick up those pieces for you? Then you wouldn't have to run away from yourself anymore. You could stop running. If someone sees you as something worth staying with— maybe you'll stay with yourself, too."_

― _C. JoyBell C_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: hopefully this made up a little for some of the angst? Much more softness to come. Next chapter is still from Magna's POV but in chapter 6 we get to dive into Miko and see some of her backstory cos she is a queen and deserves the attention every bit as much.
> 
> As always, reviews are like oxygen to me - so please let me know what you think, or just you know come and cry with me about yumagna (I'm bonnielextra or welcometocaritas on twitter and or bonnielextra on instagram). I appreciate so much what you guys have told me about this story, means the world <3


	5. And I Heard Her Say. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this house, we ignore canon and only canon

_"You can play it safe, and I wouldn't blame you for it. You can continue as you've been doing, and you'll survive, but is that what you want? Is that enough?_ _"_

― _J.M. Darhower, Sempre_

* * *

In a way, the day's events still seemed surreal. Almost too hard to believe, if Magna hadn't been waiting for the axe to drop for almost a year now, growing edgier and edgier with each passing week that it hung, still threatening overhead. It felt like if she wasn't careful, she - or worse, the people she loved - would be standing directly under it when the time came for it to finally fall.

Watching Hilltop burn and seeing what was left of its residents scatter to the wind, made her wish that she and Kelly had kept another stash, or at least found a way to avoid revealing the one they'd had to Daryl.

What the hell were they going to do now?

Another home. Gone.

And she couldn't even bring herself to feel surprised about it. She'd known this was coming from the start - even as she'd hoped against it.

Still, it hurt like a mother fucker, and she knew Yumiko must be feeling even worse about the loss. She'd _fit_ at Hilltop in a way Magna couldn't; found a certain kind of purpose and role that had been missing from her life since the world fell apart. It was everything she'd been yearning for, ever since the two of them had walked away from the comfort of civilization ten years ago. It was the hope that sparked in her eyes every time they found a new group of people that _didn_ _'t_ want to kill them, every time they stumbled upon a community that seemed to actually be _working_ , even prospering.

It never lasted.

Magna had watched the devastation settle over Miko's face every time those hopes were dashed against the unforgiving edge of the universe, and she could see it now, brewing behind the greater relief that their reunion had brought.

Her heart hurt for her and she held on just that little bit tighter, hating how powerless she was to actually _do_ anything; to fix this.

Miko, though oblivious to the direction of her thoughts, squeezed her hand in response, offering a small smile. Magna managed a weak one back from where she'd returned to lying with her head in the other woman's lap.

_I love you._

The words still reverberated throughout her being, how easily they'd been said, like the other woman hadn't even needed to think about it. She'd just . . . said it.

But words had always come easily to Yumiko.

Magna couldn't seem to get hers to work, no matter what she did. She'd always been screwing something up with her big damn mouth as a kid and that hadn't really changed. She just kept more words to herself now, felt the weight of them in a way she hadn't back then.

And the things she _really_ wanted to say . . .

They were always too heavy to pick up at all.

_I love you._

She should say it. She knew the truth of the declaration, had known for a long while - even as she'd tried to deny it.

And Miko . . . Miko _deserved_ to hear those words.

But she couldn't.

* * *

**Past**

'Alight, that's enough, time for Monkey Maisie to go to bed,' Magna grunted, trying to disentangle the tiny body still doing its best to climb her like a tree. 'You're getting too heavy for this.' Huffing, she unwrapped two clinging limbs and dropped the girl onto the bed with a _plop_.

Maisie pouted. 'But what about a story?'

'Nope. You got to stay up and watch cartoons instead, that was the deal.' And her eyes were already hurting from hours of My Little Pony movies, she wasn't about to force them to stare at a fuckinh book on top of that.

'If you don't read me a story I'll start to cry.'

Magna raised an eyebrow. 'Oh yeah? Try it.'

The girl 's face screwed up, skin growing red from the effort as she tried to produce even the tiniest drop of water. After a minute or two, she gave up, gasping.

Magna snorted. 'You've made me feel just terrible about myself, really.'

Maisie glared but accepted the defeat and finally allowed the teenager to pull back the covers and get her settled. 'You're so mean.'

'The worst.'

After placing a quick goodnight kiss on the child 's head, she pulled back to go. Maisie's eyes widened.

'Wait, you forgot the most important part!'

Magna rolled her eyes but grudgingly made her way back to the bed, Maisie narrowing her own ones, judging each movement carefully.

'And what's that?'

'You didn't say 'I love you'. If you don't say it the monsters won't think you care enough to protect me so they'll come and get me when I'm sleeping.'

She huffed. 'That's bullshit. I'd always protect you.'

'Yeah but _they_ don't know that. They're stupid." Stupid was Maisie's favorite word of the month and she tried to work it into as many conversations as she could - much to everyone's exasperation. "Also, you're not supposed to say that word around me, Morgan said so.'

'Morgan can also be a dick.'

'You're not supposed to say that, either. And, besides, I know you don't mean it. You beat up those two meanies who were picking on him last week, I know, I saw you.'

Shit.

The kid was gonna use that information to blackmail her at some point, she just knew it.

'That's cos the only one who gets to pick on him is me.'

Maisie 's face scrunched up. 'That's stupid. Teenagers are stupid. I'm not gonna be a teenager. Not me, nope.'

'Nope?'

'Nope, not ever. I'm too smart.'

She rolled her eyes. 'Alright, smarty-pants. Time for lights out.' Tucking the girl in tightly and scowling as she started to wiggle around defiantly like a worm, Magna sent her a warning look before straightening back up. 'Sleep.'

' _Magna_.'

She smirked.

'So demanding. . . Had you for a minute there, though, didn't?' she teased before leaning back down and planting a kiss on the girl's cheek. 'Love you, Monkey.'

'Love you, Magna.' She leant up to peck her cheek in return. 'I keep the monsters away from you too.'

* * *

**Present**

"Oh," Yumiko startled, removing one hand from Magna's head to reach into her pocket. "I made you something."

Magna blinked furiously, trying to shake off the ghostly impression of a tiny mouth against her skin, a whisper in her ear.

Frowning, and intrigued despite her exhaustion and the ache now clawing at her heart, she forced herself to sit upright, her body weeping at the loss of contact.

Yumiko fumbled in her pocket for a second before retrieving a small wooden object (and it really _had_ been a blessing to find women's pants in the middle of an apocalypse that could actually hold anything; Magna had been more than envious of the discovery but they'd only fit Miko, something the older woman had gloated about on more than one occasion).

She eyed the object curiously.

Magna recognized it as resembling the crude wood carvings she had taught her how to make, the ones that Miko had generally failed at.

Confused, she held out a hand to accept the offering, turning it over and over, trying to puzzle out this unexpected gift. "Is it a dog?" Which would be odd considering Miko knew she'd carried a wariness of them ever since her uncle's German Shepherd had sent her to hospital for a row of stitches on her calf.

Perhaps Miko was still a little pissed at her after all.

"What?" The other woman blinked. "No, it's a tiger."

"Are you sure?"

" _Magna_."

She forced back the small uptick to her mouth, the amusement that fought to pull at her face as she caught the slight whine in Miko's voice.

This was a familiar exchange and she'd missed it.

Out of the two of them, art had always been Magna's thing. Her dad was a carpenter and in one of his more sober moments - the even rarer kind where he actually made time for her - he'd taught her the basics of carving. She knew he would have preferred to teach her brother but he was only four at the time, so the man had made do with her. It was the only thing from him that she'd found worth keeping, and she took a certain kind of pleasure in the fact that she was much better at it than he'd ever been.

When things were quiet and there was nothing to do, she'd taught the others a little. Luke didn't quite like working with sharp objects any more than he had to so it had been a short-lived experience for him; especially after he'd cut his fingers one too many times. Connie had the patience for it and Kelly the inspiration. Miko had absolutely _no_ natural talent when it came to anything artsy but what she did have was an endless resource of determination and the ability not to take herself too seriously. She tended to find amusement in her own mistakes, the crude mockeries of Magna's own work.

It had been nice.

"Don't be an arse. Look, those are its ears," Miko insisted, pointing out two little ridges.

"I thought those were its eyes."

A huff. "You're enjoying this aren't you?"

Her cheeks hurt and she couldn't contain the smirk anymore. "A little."

"Brat."

Magna bit her lip, eyes twinkling.

In truth, there was a swelling in her chest, a warm wave that threatened to overwhelm her - and she was tempted to let it. She hadn't expected this. A sign Miko had been thinking of her - every bit as much as Magna had been thinking of her in return.

She wondered when the other woman had found the time to make it. Was it when she'd been stuck in the cave? Or back when they'd put all their effort into avoiding each other at Hilltop? Or had it been before? Before they'd fought, before Magna had started to give her the cold shoulder, before everything went to hell.

Her heart clenched.

"Why a tiger?"

Her lips drew up. "I know you like them."

It was true. She'd always thought they were beautiful. Dangerous, but beautiful. That they could remain a threat even in captivity, never entirely tamed, was something that she'd admired. Her brother used to tease her, saying that her favorite Disney prince had in fact been Rajah. That was . . . not entirely inaccurate, mostly because even as a child she'd been far too gay to spare the _actual_ princes much thought.

She'd dressed up Maisie as a tiger once for Halloween and the seven-year-old had spent the whole night growling, hiding behind lamp posts and bins to jump out at people with a 'fierce' howl, teeth bared and 'claws' at the ready.

Blinking, she pushed the memory back under the surface, burying it, wishing her thoughts hadn't taken her there.

Even after all these years it still _hurt._

"I mentioned that once _. Six_ years ago."

"I never forget anything you say."

Her grip tightened around the piece of wood, the edges of Miko's gift digging painfully into her skin. She looked back down at it, almost desperately. She didn't know what to do with that information, so freely given - Miko gave all the parts of her heart away so freely.

It scared Magna.

And awed her.

_How do you respond to something like that?_

A part of her tried to deny the significance - Miko had a good memory. She had seen it at work before, especially during the trial. That was all.

But it didn't stick.

There was no denying Miko.

Sensing the change in her, the other woman cleared her throat and changed the subject. "To be honest, I always enjoyed watching you teach me more than the actual process of doing it myself."

 _This_ Magna had kind of suspected, especially since Miko had used those moments to nestle closer to her over the years, closer, closer still . . . until one day she'd craned her head to the side and kissed Magna - only briefly and just at the corner of her mouth, easily dismissed, but it had been enough to spark something, to get the ball rolling so to say - and two weeks later Magna had paused their carving, hands resting over Miko's, and closed the distance.

 _That_ kiss had been anything but brief.

So she'd always suspected, but it was nice to hear it confirmed. "Well, you _are_ pretty terrible at it."

"I prefer the term 'alternatively inspired'."

"Mm-hmm."

Miko narrowed her eyes at the smirk that danced across her lips so Magna ducked her head, hiding it behind a curtain of knotted hair as she turned the figurine over in her hand.

Crude or not. It was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

"But I um. . ." Attune to the sudden hesitancy in the other woman's tone, her head snapped back up. Miko was biting her lip, her gaze having drifted away. "Had some time. Whilst you were gone. And I couldn't look for you, not then, but I needed to do _something_ and . . . well, a terrible creation was born." The smile was teasing, but there was a touch of wetness to her eyes.

Magna swallowed, remembering her own time in the cave. There had been moments, more than she wanted to recall, that she really thought she wasn't going to see Miko again. That their last conversation would remain just that - their last. And that had filled her with a different kind of agony than she was used to. A confusion of despair and regret and guilt and _anger_ that she hadn't felt since she'd walked in on her cousin's body, hanging from-

Even now, she still shuddered away from the memory.

There were some wounds that time just couldn't heal, some cuts never scabbed over.

"Hey." Miko's touch brought her back, light but insistent on her hand. When she turned her head around, she found only concern staring back at her. "You alright? You went away for a little bit."

'Went away' was a code they'd been using since before the apocalypse even started, back when Miko had first noticed how often Magna would space out, and how hard it could be to reach her. The term had grown to encompass some of Miko's own moments after the sickos had arrived to wreak hell across the planet, the times Magna's heart had clenched and all she could do was _watch_.

Neither of them had survived this world without scars.

It was different from what Miko called 'spinning out', and to be honest Magna almost preferred the latter - oddly enough, she still felt like she had some control during those times, and they tended to have less to do with taking a trip down memory lane than reacting to a present situation.

That made them easier to bear.

She cleared her throat. "Sorry."

"Stop apologizing," Miko dismissed distractedly as she continued to watch her with concern. Magna clenched her fist, forgetting that the other woman's hand still rested there, ready and reassuring.

She was right. She knew this wasn't like her. But everything over the past few weeks - hell, probably ever since Bernie - had felt . . . s _he_ _'d_ felt disjointed, tearing apart at the seams, crumbling. Some moments she was angry, _so_ _angry -_ the kind of anger that had led to her driving a knife into the throat of a man who had taken _so much_ from her; the kind that she had managed to temper somewhat since then - and other times she just felt . . . lost, like someone had changed all the street signs in her town overnight, painted over the houses and uprooted trees that had stood strong and sure for decades . . . and she was scared. But she was used to feeling scared. She'd lived with fear as a constant companion since she could walk, she'd probably feel more lost _without_ the feeling, but she wasn't used to feeling overcome by it, not like this.

"What were you thinking about?" Yumiko asked, squeezing her hand after Magna had stayed silent too long, drawing her out.

This was a question she'd stopped asking less than a year into their friendship after one too many times being answered with nothing short of a brick wall - and more often than not a snarl.

But Magna remembered the conversation they'd just had. _Trying_.

She nearly pulled her hand free to run away right then. But she owed it to Miko to try. She owed it to herself, too.

She could give them this.

That said, she didn't think Miko would hold it against her if she couldn't, not right now, not so soon after what had happened with the cave, with Connie.

But she had to start _somewhere_.

"My cousin."

Another squeeze of her hand and, though Miko remained concerned, something like surprise and gratitude flickered across her face. "You never talk about her. That last conversation we had, it was the first time you'd mentioned her since your trial."

"Yeah." She looked away but didn't free her hand, didn't run, even though every nerve in her body seemed to be begging her to. Progress. "I prefer it that way."

"Okay." Miko nodded slowly, still watching her intently and almost like she couldn't believe they were having this conversation. Had Magna really been that bad? She'd opened up to the other woman before, not often but it _had_ happened. Though, Miko was right, never about her cousin. Not until this year; in the worst way possible. "But if you ever do want to talk, I'm here."

Magna frowned. "Wait, that's it? You're not going to push?" Shock wrestled with relief.

"Magna . . ." Miko stopped, biting her lip and placing a hand on her cheek.

Magna stilled but didn't pull away.

"Why would I? You're being honest. That's all I ever wanted."

She relaxed slightly at the words, allowed herself to lean into the touch.

It felt like relief.

Like home.

"I don't want to tear you apart just so I can see what makes you tick. I just wanted you to stop pushing me away, and using _lies_ to do it." Miko offered a small smile, trying for levity, "and believe it or not, you're not the only one who has things they don't like to talk about. I do get that. Just . . . let's not let it come between us this time?"

And there was a hint of vulnerability in the last words, a question, as though Miko was as worried as her about their ability to stay afloat, to not ruin things again - for _Magna_ to not ruin things.

It should have been disheartening but instead it was almost comforting, realizing that Miko shared some of the same fears as her. That she was just as lost in the territory of their relationship as Magna.

It meant she wasn't alone.

But then, she had never been alone with Miko at her side. She'd just let her own doubts convince her otherwise and that wasn't a mistake she would ever make again.

At least, she hoped . . .

God, she hoped.

* * *

" _and i heard her say, 'you are afraid of love. but love is not afraid of you."_

― _Nayyirah Waheed, Nejma_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks again to the people who have sent me their thoughts on this story, it's super appreciated. I hope this is helping you all a little to get through what's been happening with yumagna.
> 
> Also, the My Little Pony movies mentioned are the old versions, I was super addicted to them as a kid. I haven't seen the new ones, though.
> 
> Also depression is a bitch and it's interfering with my writing. I hate it here. But yeah it's getting in the way of me writing those sequels I was telling you about so hopefully it pisses off soon.


	6. The Soft Season Will Come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: yeah so I don't know if I've mentioned this but I've just started these meds and they're making me really foggy and it's becoming very difficult for me to write. I might go off them but for now I've decided to split Miko's Chapter into three parts just so it's a little easier for me to get through and not fuck up too much. Especially because I've been struggling with my application of perfect past tense in her parts - cos there's a lot of looking back on her history without it actually being its own scene and therefore able to be done in past tense - and it's really kicking my ass. My brain not function enough for this right now. Her part is also like 8000 words so I felt like it could survive being split. It just means the story is going to be two chapters longer and take a little longer to finish. I hope that's okay with everyone.
> 
> Due to that, Miko's backstory is going to play more of a part in the next two chapters rather than this one.
> 
> With all that said, I'm a little worried about my chances of finishing the sequel oneshots I have in mind - though one will most definitely be getting finished and it's the fluffy one so hopefully that's something.
> 
> Also, special thanks to Eleanor for feeding us so well with her insta stories during this trying time. Her service is much appreciated.

She knew that Magna blamed herself for Bernie's death, every bit as much as Yumiko blamed _her_ self _._ And now with Connie. . .

She was worried. Neither of them handled losing people well, both of them took on the weight of responsibility for the loss - even when there was nothing they could have done. But Magna . . . Yumiko had always suspected that each death brought her back to her cousin, to that first 'failure'.

She hadn't been entirely honest when she'd said Magna never talked about her cousin.

There had been one night, two weeks before the world ended, when the other woman had gotten drunk on the anniversary of Maisie's death - too drunk. Yumiko had ended up having to extract her from the clutches of some overeager leeches at the only 24/7 bar within seventeen miles of the truck stop.

She should have realized what was going to happen when Magna had declined a ride home from work due to having other plans - because not only was Magna having other plans almost unheard of but she didn't _go_ to bars (or, at least, she'd never gone to any and invited Yumiko along for the ride) - and she'd known, she'd _known_ what day it was but she hadn't found it within herself to judge if the other woman wanted to drown a little in her sorrows, considering the last few years she'd had. So Yumiko had brushed off the momentary concern and even offered herself as a cab. There was no point in Magna spending her shift-money on a taxi and every inch of her had rebelled at the thought of the twenty-two-year-old woman walking to a seedy bar alone at one in the morning - and then having to find her way home _drunk_ after the fact.

Magna had reluctantly accepted - mostly because by that point in their friendship she'd managed to resign herself to the fact that Yumiko could be an absolute bloodhound when it came to the safety of those she cared about, and Yumiko had noticed that Magna was even slowly starting to open her eyes to the fact that she was now among those ranks.

After they'd escaped the diner and Yumiko had, through some small miracle, managed to guide her over to the car and into the passenger seat - almost receiving a black eye for her trouble when she'd startled Magna by leaning in too quickly to do up her seatbelt - Yumiko had driven her home. _Her_ home.

It hadn't been the first time she'd seen Magna drunk but it _had_ been the first that she'd seen her so out of control. And Magna . . . Magna was an emotional drunk, either prone to fits of overwhelming feeling - both good and bad - or dark moods that managed to cause an even greater worry to rise up inside Yumiko. From her vantage, it'd seemed to be like having all your PMSes for the year in the space of one night, and it could be frightening to watch.

All in all, Yumiko hadn't felt comfortable leaving the inebriated woman to her own devices and, well, her place _had_ been much nicer. She also hadn't fancied trying to hunt around in Magna's person for the keys to the other woman's home, if you could even call it that. Yumiko had tried _very_ hard not to notice the cockroaches in the hallway outside when she'd visited once and she still felt guilty that she hadn't been able to track down a better place that was still within the younger woman's price range for her to live. She would have offered to help out financially - as it wasn't as though she'd been hurting for cash at that point - if she'd thought for a second Magna wouldn't have slammed the door in her face for the insult. Knowing it would be equally futile, she'd kept her mouth shut on the impulse to open up her own home as a place to stay - she'd doubted she'd be able to convince Magna that it was more for Yumiko's benefit than her own, even if it _had_ been the truth.

She really wouldn't have minded having some human company around for a change - well, the kind that wasn't her mother on a constant mission to invade her space.

But at that stage, the ex-con had still had a hard time grasping the concept that there were people out there who actually _wanted_ her around - and none of them more than Yumiko.

It was another thing that the lawyer had tried hard not to think about.

Magna had ended up babbling a lot about her cousin that night, most of it unintelligible, more than a little rather concerning. There had been no mention of prison, or the crime she'd been charged with - at least, no words that Yumiko had been able to make out. But she _had_ heard enough to gather that Magna would have held herself entirely responsible for everything that happened to the little girl if not for the fact that there existed a man far more worthy of the blame.

But he was dead now. Gone. As gone as the world that had once allowed him to flourish . . . and all that anger had needed somewhere to go.

Yumiko still hated to think of that night and some of the things she'd heard.

But she'd never brought it up with Magna. The other woman had woken up with a massive hangover, awkward levels of embarrassment and little memory of recent events. And Yumiko. . . It hadn't felt _right_ to profess knowledge that she was certain Magna wouldn't have imparted to her if she was even just a tiny bit more sober.

Those were things that the younger woman had to want to tell her, to _choose_ to. Yumiko would accept nothing less.

She just wished it hadn't taken thirteen years for her to start opening up about it, mostly because Yumiko knew how badly it had to still weigh on her. It made her feel powerless, watching those times Magna had suffered, wanting to help but knowing she had to restrain herself from making even the slightest step.

That was why it had meant so much to her when Magna had finally confided in her about Maisie, had forced that door around her thoughts open just a crack, allowing Yumiko to at last slip a tentative hand inside.

She'd only ever wanted to be there for her, in the same way Magna had been for _her_ all these years. To listen and help where she could; to just get that little bit _closer,_ if only so she wouldn't feel so damned helpless all the fucking time.

There was nothing Yumiko hated more than feeling helpless. To be confronted with something that, not only was she incapable of fixing _,_ but which she couldn't even _attempt_ to make that little bit better - to give aid where aid was so sorely needed.

She couldn't stand that overwhelming powerlessness.

As a lawyer, she'd always been able to do _something._ Even if that something failed in the end, at least she got to try. And when being a lawyer was no longer an option, she'd picked up a bow and taught herself how to use it again, forced the muscles in her arms to grow stronger than they ever had before, to focus and hone her aim until she no longer feared that she might miss. She had made herself into a weapon so that she could protect the person she loved most in the world, protect herself, and protect the family she had come to find among strangers.

It had enabled some of that powerlessness to leave her and for some of the control she'd lost to enter back into her life once more. It had given her strength and even some small fraction of peace.

But not when it came to Magna.

She'd just wanted the other woman to _talk_ to her.

To let her in. To let her at least _try,_ and failing that to give Yumiko the chance to support her through it all, to use her now roughened hands to hold the _both_ of them together; to make it bearable in whatever places she could.

But Magna never did.

They never talked.

They never talked about Maisie.

They never talked about Morgan.

They never talked about Sarah.

They never talked about Bernie.

All those things she knew that weighed on Magna throughout the years, especially when the last two were such heavy loads that Yumiko _herself_ struggled to carry around, day to day.

She'd needed the other woman to help her through that every bit as much as she'd so desperately craved to help _Magna_ through it. She'd wanted them both to be able to lean on the other in that way.

To comfort.

To understand.

But they never talked about it.

Almost like those people had never existed. Like if Magna could deny them life, she could also deny them death - could repel all the pain they had brought her; all the guilt.

But Yumiko knew it didn't work like that. It couldn't.

She'd tried that path herself and all it had ever gotten her was the feeling of the ground crumbling to pieces under her feet as she finally fell into all the dark holes she'd been so desperate to avoid.

And all this time she had been waiting for the same to happen to Magna - for it to be even _worse_ , considering the sheer amount of shit she'd taken to burying throughout the years. She'd been holding her breath, waiting for the other woman to finally trip over all those burdens, to crash, to fall - to _break_. And Yumiko had been terrified she wouldn't be able to catch her when it happened, to lift her back up, to do _anything_.

And all the while fearing, underneath it all, that she might one day lose her to that pain, to all those hidden things she couldn't allow herself to bring into the light.

And Magna was a fighter, she had always _been_ a fighter, but in recent years Yumiko hadn't been able to get the image of Maisie out of her head, to block out her file and all it detailed about the child's death. And suicide . . . it could run in families. Yumiko _knew_ that, she'd lost two uncles and an older cousin to depression. And maybe the circumstances that pushed Maisie over that edge had been extreme but so were some of the things that had happened in the ex-con's own life, and. . . Magna, she was a fighter, Yumiko couldn't imagine her ever being able to _stop_ fighting, not Magna . . . but . . .

She'd wondered, deep down, how long someone could fight for, when fighting was all they knew how to do.

When did it all become too much? When did you reach that breaking point?

Because she knew Magna had to have one, they all had one, and the other woman just kept ignoring hers, charging forward like somehow, if she just kept moving - moving _faster -_ she could outrun all that haunted her.

If only it could work like that.

And then Magna had returned without Connie and she had been so. . . so _fragile,_ so defeated; and not even trying to hide it. And that fear inside Yumiko had only grown, even as she'd _tried_ to push it down, push it away, keep it far away from her and Magna and all the relief and joy she was feeling at finally having her back - at feeling the roughness of the other woman's hands against hers, the comforting weight of her head in her lap, the familiar texture of her hair drifting through Yumiko's fingers.

She'd been so scared, though. Still.

No matter how much she'd pushed the feeling away.

But then Magna had surprised her, had flipped the rules of this tired game on its side.

There'd been a change, a _huge_ change, a monumental shift.

Because Yumiko had asked her to try and Magna. . . she _had_.

She'd let her in.

She'd opened the door to some of that pain, too that all too destructive mess of fear and doubt, and she'd _talked_ to her - and she'd heard Yumiko talking back.

Magna had confronted her own actions and accepted some of the blame and she'd _promised_ that she wouldn't do this again, that she would at least _try_ to keep them both afloat, to do so as hard as Yumiko had all these years.

It was like some great weight had been lifted from her shoulders at last.

And for the first time in a long time, Yumiko felt like they might be okay, like they could make it.

* * *

_"The hard season will split you through. do not worry. you will bleed water. do not worry. this is grief. your face will fall out and down your skin and there will be scorching. but do not worry. keep speaking the years from their hiding places. keep coughing up smoke from all the deaths you have died. keep the rage tender. because the soft season will come. it will come. loud. ready. gulping. both hands in your chest. up all night. up all of the nights. to drink all damage into love. – therapy"_

_― Nayyirah Waheed, salt._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> So child suicide is one of those things that we don't talk about nearly enough and I think it's a lot down to the fact that we don't like to acknowledge that kids have those kinds of dark thoughts, let alone that they'd act on them. Like if a kid says they want to die, people are liable to brush it off as 'they're just a kid, they're not being serious'. But it is actually a very serious problem and it's not this extremely rare thing that hardly ever happens. It happens a lot. Not as much as with other age groups, but still a lot. Five-year-olds have been known to commit suicide, and I feel like as long as we pretend that this isn't something that's happening, the harder it's going to be to do something about it. And one of the steps in that process is bringing it out into the open, talking about it, acknowledging its existence. So yeah that's one of the reasons why I included it, besides the fact that it gave Magna more motivation to kill that man.
> 
> On a similar note, I feel like if you've ever had a family member or someone you know die from suicide then it is something that can play on your mind a bit, whether those fears are founded or not - like suicide and mental illness runs in my family on both sides, and I've also been suicidal myself, so it does play at your mind a bit. And in Miko's case, she's been watching Magna bottle things up for a long time now and it's frustrating for her. Magna please stop giving your girlfriend anxiety. But that's I think where it can be difficult to find a balance in relationships between allowing your partner to keep things to themselves - because everyone has that right and your girlfriend/boyfriend doesn't need to know every little thing about you - and sharing enough so that you're still communicating well and it's not causing issues for either one of you. And Yumiko is a lot more open when she's struggling, she's someone who wants/needs to talk about it, and Magna is the complete opposite of that so it's hard. So this fic is a lot about them being able to find a common ground.
> 
> On another note, Miko and Magna both really do have such protective personalities and it's interesting to see how that works between them.


	7. Things Don't Always Work Out The Way You Want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Anyway, this is the chapter that kept kicking my ass in terms of tenses. You would not believe how many times I rewrote it in past tense or perfect past tense and in the end it still didn't turn out quite correct, but it's better then where it began.
> 
> I did find it more difficult to get into Yumko's headspace, I think mostly because we know even less about her life than we do Magna's so it was really just taking cues from her personality and starting mostly from scratch. Surprisingly, 10x14 actually gelled really well with the backstory I'd already written out for Yumiko's character so that was nice. What was NOT nice was watching her and Magna part ways - and without even a goodbye hug. I can't BELIEVE we've never seen these guys hug, when they've hugged so many other characters, even my mum pointed out how weird that was and how they're treated so obviously different compared to the straight relationships on the show. It's pretty disappointing.
> 
> I could relate to Miko as being someone who had had so many plans for her life and the future but then, well, life blows them to smithereens so that aspect was easier to write.
> 
> Next chapter is the last one from Miko's POV (the final chapter will be Magna's again) and we get a flashback for their third year into the apocalypse.

" _You don't know what lies ahead for us. No one does. I had all these plans for my life, and I clung to them so hard. And for what?"_

_\- Yumiko, The Walking Dead, 10.14_

* * *

After her parents split when she was thirteen, her mother had moved to America for a job - and taken Yumiko with her. Long-distance back and forth over the years to stay with her father during the holidays had been rough, but she'd also secretly been _glad_ that she no longer had to listen to the sound of her parents fighting through her bedroom door almost every night - even if the price was leaving behind all her friends, her home and the man she loved more than any other in the universe.

She'd learned how to live with distance, to make a life out of partly granted wishes and find happiness in the glass half full approach. Her childhood and youth hadn't turned out the way she'd wanted but she could adjust to that - and had done so rather well.

So long as she focused on the positives. So long as she filled her life to the brim with hobbies and studies and little side projects to keep her mind busy, always busy.

So long as she never let herself be still.

She'd done amazing in school as a result, beyond her own expectations even. But it also hadn't been in any way surprising. For the most part, Yumiko had made school her life - at least, the educational aspect. She made friends easily, formed connections without thought with almost everyone, but at the same time there was a sizable distance between her and whoever she allowed into her orbit. It wasn't intentional. She liked people, liked interacting with them, she just . . . couldn't seem to get close to anyone. Didn't much see the point.

She preferred spending time on her studies and after-school activities rather than hanging out at the mall or going to parties. She was an only child, so she was used to her own company - and more than comfortable with it.

She had her pets - between the two houses there was a total of five dogs, two cats, a tortoise called Pistachio who traveled with her, and a horse that resided in her uncle's stable in Kent - and she had her parents. She and her father conversed every day and it was _he_ who Yumiko shared her thoughts with, her passions. Her relationship with her mother was a little more caustic, the older woman never quite getting over the needling anxiousness a gamut of childhood illnessess had provoked in her; and sometimes that overprotectiveness could be suffocating. They also disagreed quite turbulently over the direction Yumiko's life should take. Her mother had leapt at the obvious smarts her daughter possessed and taken it to mean that, of _course_ Yumiko would one day become a doctor like her, a surgeon if all went well.

But that future had never been in Yumiko's sights.

She hated hospitals, hated blood, hated being around sickness in general. She also couldn't imagine anything worse than being confronted with death on a daily basis.

She much preferred the capabilities of language and all its achievements. Her best class had always been English and she'd thrived in the school debate team, much to her father's pride. So many of her fond early memories were of staying up late, sitting in her father's lap as he pondered notes on his current cases, listening to the steady reverberation of his voice as he read aloud. On the weekends, he would set up mock trials for Yumiko to entertain herself with, the dogs serving as jury and Pistachio as judge whilst she and her father switched between playing prosecutor and defense - the cat suffered through being the defendant on more than one occasion, hissing from Yumiko's arms.

Those were her favorite memories and so she'd known from an early age just what it was she wanted to do in life.

She was very good at setting goals for herself, at planning. Once she decided on something, there was very little that could get in her way. Her mother, eventually, came to accept that and it had been she who helped Yumiko pour through the bounty of acceptance letters from various law schools in order to determine the appropriate match; and she who'd been the first to congratulate her daughter when she'd finally graduated, when all those plans and dreams, at last, came to fruition.

All in all, Yumiko was good at determining what it was she wanted and had made almost an art out of ensuring she got it, regardless of whatever obstacles stood in her way.

Like Magna, she could be extremely stubborn.

Things only really started to shift in her final year of law school, when her father had gotten sick.

That seemed to be the defining moment that released a cascade of events determined to knock Yumiko off her course, to uproot all that she'd come to rely on and knock her world on its axis.

Her father. Then Magna. And then the outbreak.

Three of the most defining moments of her life, all within years of each other; each one shaking Yumiko to her core.

Magna had been the only welcome interruption to her plans but even _she_ \- or rather, Yumiko's feelings for her - had sent her for quite the confusing spin.

After all, falling for one of her former clients - who might possibly have been the most guarded and unapproachable person she had ever encountered - was _not_ what she'd had in mind for her life, nor had it been particularly easy to manage.

But Yumiko had adjusted. She always did.

Those other two detours, though. . .

Well they had been far less pleasant and not nearly as easy to swallow.

Her father passed away when she was in the middle of sitting her final law exam. She got the phone call just as she was walking out of the building, her stepmother correctly predicting she wouldn't have switched it on before then.

"Yumiko. . ."

And she _knew_ , even before the woman gathered herself to say any more, even before her thoughts managed to cycle through into anything coherent.

She just . . . knew.

The air left her lungs and, for a moment, the world shook and she had to stop, grab onto the stair railing just to keep herself steady, just to give herself a moment to breathe.

They'd all known it was coming. For almost a year now, they'd been waiting for the guillotine to drop, for it to slice right through their hearts, cutting their lives to ribbons.

But she'd thought . . .

Her stepmother had assured her he was doing better. Sure, he was still in hospital but he'd been _smiling_ , making jokes, even walking around. He'd had a minor setback, yes, but the doctors had thought his health was picking up enough to move him back home. Another month, at least, they'd predicted . . .

Three days ago, when Yumiko had gotten the call that her father had taken a turn, she'd nearly booked a plane then and there. She'd actually had the website open on her phone, scanning through flight time-tables for the next forty-eight hours, when it had buzzed with a call from her father. From his hospital bed, they'd argued back and forth for almost two hours - the phone bill had been enormous - but in the end he had convinced her to stay put at least until the end of the week so she could still sit her final exams. In truth, Yumiko had only given in because she'd been wary of upsetting his health any further by prolonging the debate. She'd still considered booking the flight anyway, and rocking up unannounced, but eventually decided that she'd rather _not_ spend the rest of her life with the memory of giving her father a heart attack.

But now . . .

She tried to remember what she'd said to him before she'd hung up.

She'd been angry, scared, and shaking with the unfairness of it all. Why did it have to be _this_ week? How was she supposed to stay still and think about _school_ when her father was dying in what seemed another world away?

Had she even said goodbye?

No. No, she hadn't.

She'd meant to, she was sure she'd meant to, but she'd been so-

She'd wanted-

A part of her had still thought that it wasn't going to happen, that it was _never_ going to happen. Her father had always been there - even oceans apart, even with that constant distance between them, he'd _been_ there - and she hadn't been able to adjust to the idea that one day he might not be; that all too inevitable conclusion that just didn't _fit_ in her reality.

She'd booked a flight scheduled for three hours after her exam and the bags in her apartment had been packed for days. She'd been planning to go straight from school to her home and then to the airport. Her mother had wanted to celebrate finishing the exams but she'd understood why that wasn't an option. Yumiko didn't have her results yet, of course, but she felt confident in all her answers despite how distracted she'd been all week and she'd wanted, _needed_ to tell her father that - it had been he who had inspired her to be a lawyer in the first place, who'd pushed her to do it even when she'd doubted her own ability and she'd wanted-

She had a stuffed Piglet lying at the bottom of her suitcase because she'd seen it in a window on her way home from work the night before and her father had always been obsessed with anything 'Winnie the Pooh' and she was supposed to present it as a gift to him the moment she stepped into his hospital room but now the only thing she would be giving it to was a tombstone and-

She'd wanted-

She'd wanted . . .

 _(_ _'Things don't always work out the way you want, Miko. . .')_

Yumiko had always regretted it in a way, not saying goodbye, going to that exam, when what she'd _wanted_ to do was get on the first plane out of the country. To talk with him face to face, hold his hand one last time . . . to _be there,_ when it all finally came to an end.

She'd wanted a goodbye.

But she'd shouldered that regret, learnt to live with it. You couldn't change the past, all you could do was focus on the present, and hope to god you didn't make the same mistakes.

Magna had helped, and she would probably never understand just how much.

Because Magna _existed_. She existed in Yumiko's life and Yumiko _loved_ her, in a way that she hadn't quite realized it was possible to love anyone, not to such a degree.

This love was unique, it kept its own place, outside the normal bonds of friendship or romantic entanglement. It was a love that wouldn't _fit_ anyone else, that belonged to Magna and Magna alone. And a lot of that was to do with how much they'd been through together, the experiences they'd shared that were completely beyond the realm of what you could ever expect in life, but part of it was also just Magna. Who she was, who'd she'd come to be to Yumiko. The little things that made her up - the good, the bad, and all of it _Magna._

Yumiko hadn't planned for her, had never even _thought-_

But the other woman had fit so seamlessly into her life, as though that was where she was always meant to be, as though Yumiko was always supposed to find her, whether she'd planned on it or not.

When the world as she'd known it ceased to be. . . Magna had been the only thing that remained, the only constant. Better than any goal or dream Yumiko ever could have imagined for herself, lasting beyond all others.

And Yumiko never would have met her if she hadn't gone to that exam.

Even if she'd postponed it just one more year, that would have been one year too late. The series of events that had led to her taking Magna's case would never have happened. And even when they fought, even when Magna pissed her off _so much,_ and hurt her, Yumiko wouldn't change any of it.

She couldn't bear to.

Those years were worth everything to her. Those memories had kept her fighting, even when the fight seemed pointless, impossible.

And so Magna had helped. Because it was impossible to regret what had happened with her father, when it had led her to _Magna_. When it meant that the other woman hadn't spent the rest of her life in prison, a place she probably would have died when everything went to hell.

(and just the _possibility_ of that was still something that gave Yumiko nightmares)

But then they'd fought, and Magna had left with Connie and Kelly, and Kelly had come back but Connie and Magna had remained gone, probably trapped, likely dead-

 _(_ _'Things don't always work out the way you want, Miko . . .')_

And Yumiko hadn't said goodbye.

Worse, she'd _told_ Magna to leave and for a split second, anger and hurt roiling inside her, she'd wished her gone. Not dead, just . . . gone. She hadn't wanted to look at her ever again. It was just a second, only a second and then . . .

Yumiko hadn't been able to breathe.

From the moment Kelly had come back, for all the days that had followed, every wretched hour in which hope seemed just that little more distant, all the fears she'd always had threatening to breach the border of reality and destroy her world, she hadn't been able to breathe.

And her lungs had _seared_ as she caught sight of that face through the smoke - blank, a grotesque nightmare come to life - and for a split second she'd thought-

And then she really had stopped breathing. Her arms dropping like weights, the bow slack in her grip, her vision spotting as that figure came closer, closer . . .

And at the back of her mind she'd known she needed to move, that she and Magna had talked about this possibility once, had made promises to each other but she couldn't move, couldn't _think._

Frozen.

As though in that split second, Yumiko had died as well.

And then Magna had closed the distance, her dead expression allowing itself to flicker, to change, and all at once she was _human_ again. The air rushed back in, and Yumiko was reaching, or Magna was reaching, they were both reaching, hands out, desperate, connecting - and she could breathe again. Magna was there in front of her, in her grasp, alive, safe and . . .

For days, Yumiko hadn't been able to breathe.

Latching onto Magna's arm, feeling the warmth through the material of her sleeve, the slight flinch at contact, it was like breaking through the ocean's surface after a violent wave had knocked her under, forced her down deep, spinning, choking, into the darkness, until she thought she'd never see light again.

But she had _._

The light had found her, had made its way back into her life, causing the universe to right itself once more, for the gravity to stop pulling at her feet and urging her to sink.

And the air came so easily to her now. With Magna's head in her lap, her thick matted hair between her fingers, and the sound of the younger woman's _own_ breaths filling what little space there was between them.

Yumiko could breathe again. And it was the greatest feeling in the world.

No, she didn't always get everything she wanted. But she got _this_.

. . .

_Не́ было бы сча́стья, да несча́стье помогло́._

_Transliteration: Ne bylo by schast'ya, da neschast'ye pomoglo_

_Translation: [I] would have had no luck, if not for misfortune._

_Meaning: This particular misfortune in the end has led me to more gain than it made harm._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I love the comments you guys leave. And telling me which parts you like or dislike really helps me improve my writing, so I love it when people do that. Also, if I were to do sequels to this, is there anything in particular you guys would like to see? Something you've been wanting the show to touch on or include? Like, obviously it'll depend on whether I can make it fit, but I love hearing ideas and I do want this to be something that pleases people and fills the void that the show's kind of left us with.
> 
> I'm not very good at writing other characters on the show, I will say that. So I don't know if I'd really be able to include them much. I have some basic ideas for bringing Judith into things a bit (because I really liked those scenes we got with her and Magna that have been missing from this season) but that's about all.


	8. I Could Never Let You Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I struggled a lot with the writing in this chapter and I don't think it's very good. I'm satisfied with the last quarter of it but everything before then is well. . . I hope it's not too disappointing.
> 
> I just really want to see these guys cuddling again is that too much to ask?
> 
> Also I've mentioned that I barely know anything about the law right? So this is probably littered with mistakes. Sorry!
> 
> I've given the guy Magna killed a name here as well (Brian Lawson) cos it was just easier and less confusing.
> 
> Also brief warning, there's some slight racism in this chapter because I think we all know the judicial system is racist as hell and I feel like Yumiko would have to be aware of that.

" _Non nobis solum nati sumus._

 _(Not for ourselves alone are we born.)_ _"_

― _Marcus Tullius Cicero_

* * *

"I don't snore."

It took a second for the words to break through, to reach Yumiko where she'd gone after they'd both lapsed back into silence. When they did, the frivolity of the content startled her so much, she choked on a laugh.

"Why don't you go to sleep and we'll test that?" She smirked at the immediate scowl that scrunched up Magna's face; they'd had this conversation so many times before and although it always seemed to play out the same way, Yumiko never ceased to enjoy it. "Why do you think I keep stealing your pillows? I need _something_ to block out the motortrain." Grateful for the moment of levity, she resisted the urge to poke Magna in the side - Yumiko had provoked some of the cutest pouts by doing that in the past - as she'd noticed the other woman favoring her ribs, suspected that she might have experienced a nasty fall or two, hoped it hadn't been anything worse than that.

Magna had revealed very little about her time in the cave or the horde, just enough to explain finding Yumiko again - and losing Connie in the process.

 _That_ was a wound that would eat at both of them for a long, long while - until their friend was returned to them, safe, alive.

And if she wasn't. . .

"Stop being mean and go to sleep," Magna grunted, shifting her head out of Yumiko's lap and tugging at her hand.

She tried not to notice how weak the gesture was and followed the other woman's urging, lying down beside her. A part of her regretted the action. She felt more at ease sitting upright, Magna's head safely within her hold. It gave her a better vantage point in case anyone came along. She was exhausted, her whole body screamed at her for rest, but she felt far too on edge to actually sleep. They weren't safe out here, far from it. And their friends . . . God only knew what had become of them.

It was another thing she'd been trying not to think about - and so, of course, it was a constant presence at the back of her mind.

She suspected Magna felt the same, was only doing this so that she could draw her closer - for comfort, or perhaps just to reassure herself that Yumiko was okay, even if the rest of the world wasn't. Yumiko couldn't object to that - she had the same need. And the both of them had always slept easier like this - even with the snores and pillow stealing. That was no competition for the safety and relief that came with being in the other's arms, knowing they were there, alive, safe, _close_ ; and understanding that if it came to it, they would protect you with their life.

_(how close had she come to losing this?)_

She could tell just by looking at Magna that the other woman had even less sleep in the last few days. She'd been on her feet, traveling with the horde, for a long while and Yumiko was familiar enough with her stubborn arse to guess that she probably hadn't seized what rest she could whilst trapped in the cave. So if there was even a chance that wrapping an arm around Magna and drawing her close to rest her head on her chest could give the other woman some peace, an opening to shut her eyes and maybe even fall asleep, then she was going to take it. Even if she had no plans of sleeping herself.

A poke in her ribs five minutes later signaled that Magna had other ideas about that. "Go to sleep."

Yumiko knew that if she shut her eyes, fell into the pull that beckoned her, she would be met with nothing but vivid images of Hilltop burning; of Connie; of Magna lumbering towards her and those few seconds when she'd thought: _this is it. I've lost her for good_.

Nightmares were never in short supply these past ten years and she'd learnt to avoid them where she could, to predict the times they were most likely to come for her.

It was something Magna had always understood on an instinctual level. On those nights, she just held Yumiko closer.

She snorted. "Easier said than done."

A pause. "I know." Yumiko listened to the sound of her exhale, some of the tenseness bleeding out of Magna's body in defeat. "I know."

She sighed and carded her hand through the younger woman's hair, mindful to avoid the tangles. "You should try and get some rest, though. You need it. I promise I'll be here when you wake up."

"You better be."

But she didn't go to sleep.

Yumiko waited her out - an hour, _two_ -but the other woman's breaths remained choppy, her body lacking the distinct looseness of unconsciousness that Yumiko had grown so used to over the years.

Just when her own lids were beginning to flicker dangerously, Magna's voice broke the silence.

"You never told me why you decided to look into my case. I wasn't up for parole - I shouldn't have even been on your radar."

Confused by the choice of topic, which seemed to have come out of nowhere, Yumiko hummed, sifting a hand through Magna's hair as she thought it over. "It was your brother. He came to see me, asked- no begged me to help you. Said you were innocent, that the courts had made a mistake."

He'd been very convincing.

Magna frowned. "That doesn't make any sense. He knew I did it, he never even came to see me after the trial."

Yumiko hadn't known that. Any of it.

She paused in her motions for a second, a tangle of hair catching - and she winced as she heard the other woman's suppressed hiss, jolting her back into action.

She had never considered that Magna hadn't been the only one to lie to her, that she'd been manipulated from the very beginning. Yet she couldn't begrudge Morgan Carter the action. Not when it had led her here: the familiar weight of Magna's head on her chest; the vibration of her husky voice against her skin; and the familiar scent that even sicko guts, ash and pond water hadn't been able to wash away. "Sometimes . . . it doesn't matter what we know, just what we feel. He was your brother. He couldn't leave you in that place."

_And neither could I._

After reading Magna's file, noting the countless police errors, the lack of evidence and how many other cases her lawyer had been juggling, not to mention the defendant's young age at the time of sentencing, she'd felt compelled to meet her. And once she had . . . there'd been no walking away.

There'd never be any walking away from Magna.

The case hadn't been her first, but she was certainly still very fresh on the scene at that stage. The idea of trying to convince a judge that a woman convicted for homicide in the first degree was innocent had been . . . daunting. So much so that if she hadn't met said woman, she probably would have thrown in the towel before she'd even entered the ring, perhaps handed it over to another more capable lawyer - but Yumiko had known instinctively that no-one else would touch it, especially not for the paltry fee the young woman's brother had to offer. And she couldn't, _couldn_ _'t_ do nothing.

Her mother had always said that one day her inability to give up on anything would get her into trouble.

(but if this was trouble, Yumiko couldn't find it in her to care)

The biggest thing that had been working against Magna was that she'd been spotted on three separate occasions roaming the victim's street, and that her cousin had committed suicide three months earlier - six months following the court's decision not to send the guilty man to prison.

If she'd been the prosecutor in that trial, she couldn't have asked for a more compelling motive.

But for Yumiko, that hadn't seemed nearly enough evidence to convict.

The prosecutor, though, had used the trial to spin a riveting tale of an everyday man, who'd been struck down by a teenage delinquent who'd constantly gotten into fights at school and who had even had run-ins with the police on more than one occasion - though no arrests, Yumiko had taken time to stress during the second trial. Criminality and murder also ran in the family, what else could society expect of a woman who'd watched her mother gun down her own father as a child?

Poor white trash.

Rotten from the start.

Somehow, he'd even managed to convince them of the Lawson's innocence. Of how he'd plead guilty to avoid jail time in order to be allowed to continue taking care of his sick mother. It had been a vital tactic in obtaining the jury's sympathy, for nothing seemed to incite rage like the endangerment of little white girls and that was a difficult hurdle to get past. The prosecutor had clearly known from the beginning that his best chances of getting the jury to convict would involve doing everything he could to ensure that they wouldn't empathize with Magna, wouldn't feel sorry for her - or even come to agree with her actions. For no matter what people liked to believe, all too often, it was emotion and bias that directed the outcome of trials, rather than facts and the letter of the law.

(and Yumiko _hated_ that; it had always been the aspect she'd struggled most with - the roadblock she'd kept running up against in her studies and, later, career)

And Maisie Carter had, after all, been a highly 'disturbed' child, more than capable of coming up with such horrific lies - for what sane and stable ten-year-old took their own life? It was a pity she hadn't received the helped she'd so sorely needed, but that wasn't the fault of the poor victim who'd simply been caught up in the drama brought on by a compulsive liar.

Magna had reacted to that speech by flying from her seat and attempting to throw herself at the lawyer, only to be restrained by some startled guards who'd clearly underestimated the slight girl before them. And _that_ more than anything else had been the final nail in her coffin - without it, she may never have been convicted.

Despite herself, Yumiko had been almost impressed by the tactic.

Once Magna had proved herself to be violently dangerous to not just a pedophile but to _anyone_ , the case had been lost.

And Yumiko had spent many sleepless nights that year trying to figure out a way to reverse the damage done by her outburst.

In the end, luck had been on their side.

Three months into Yumiko searching for a persuasive reason that even had a _chance_ of convincing a judge or jury to find Magna 'not guilty', one had, quite literally, found its way to her.

The police had at last finished a lengthy investigation into a drug dealer who'd they'd suspected for years to be responsible for the murder of six individuals over time, who had owed him money. DNA evidence and a confession had allowed a prosecutor to prove his guilt for four of those murders and place him quickly behind bars. But the trial hadn't grabbed her notice until the day her ex-girlfriend approached her for coffee and offered her a lifeline.

Her romantic relationship with Sonja had been short-lived but they'd remained relatively good friends after calling it quits and she'd spent more than a few catch-ups listening to Yumiko vent about the utter lack of progress she was making with Magna's case. Sonja also happened to be a police officer and, whilst she wasn't directly involved with the investigation, her partner had informed her of some new evidence that had come to light. Not only had Anthony Anderson and Brian Lawson known each other, the former had actually been the latter's drug dealer and detectives had it on good authority from a C.I. that the two had been seen arguing by several people less than a week before the night Lawson had been murdered - a night Anderson had no alibi for. Given that Anderson had already been sentenced and there was already someone behind bars for the murder of Lawson, no prosecutor had any intention of pursuing that line of investigation and taking it to court. _But_ to Yumiko's mind, it made him just as credible a suspect as Magna, if not more so.

(after all, what seemed more likely? A thirty-eight-year-old black man with a criminal record already proven to be capable of murder, or a grieving seventeen-year-old white girl half his size? Yumiko may have despised the bigotry and prejudice inherent to the judicial system but she'd learnt very quickly to use it to her advantage where possible, especially when it could only help instead of hurt. She hadn't needed to prove that he did it, only to cast a shadow of doubt over Magna's own conviction.

Dirty tactics. Yumiko hated to use them, but for Magna. . . .

It had been just the break they'd needed.

And Yumiko had pounced.

She didn't regret it. She couldn't. Even knowing it had all been a lie, that Magna's situation had been _just,_ according to the law. It hadn't felt just then, and it still didn't now, with the truth finally set out before her.

She'd been only _seventeen,_ for god's sake. Even at nineteen when Yumiko had first met her, that youth had been impossible to miss, and the thought of a girl growing into a woman behind bars, living out the greater part of her life there, had been hard to stomach. At seventeen, she'd been studying for her final exams, rifling through brochure after brochure for universities and colleges, exhilarated and overwhelmed by the overabundance of choice on offer. At nineteen, Yumiko had traveled across Europe and Asia, experienced her first kiss in a nightclub in France, and was only just beginning to explore her sexuality in a world that seemed to grow more new and exciting with every step.

In truth, it had felt like her life had been just beginning - and she couldn't wait to see how it played out.

What that girl would think of her now . . .

She would never believe it.

But then, none of their lives had turned out the way they'd planned, the way they'd hoped.

Yumiko certainly hadn't planned on a perpetually angry and antisocial young woman being dropped into her lap one day, or spending ten years fighting by her side through an apocalypse. Life had certainly taken some unexpected turns, many of them unwanted.

And yet she couldn't regret a single one of them.

She smoothed a hand over Magna's forehead, reassuring herself of the other woman's wellbeing with the healthy warmth of her skin, the lack of decay.

The words from their argument continued to play in her mind, much as she'd been trying to put them aside.

It was still hard to picture that young girl she'd first met being capable of stabbing a man six times. But she could remember how easily Magna had struck a knife on the night this hell all began, how she hadn't hesitated in pushing Yumiko out of the way and driving the blade into that man's neck, knocking him back slightly, saving her. Neither of them had known at the time about the sickos - in that moment, he hadn't been the walking dead, but just another human being. Dangerous, perhaps a lunatic or high on drugs if trying to _eat_ her was anything to go by, but human _._ And the _nightmares_ Magna had experienced that night, curled in on herself on the couch after bullying Yumiko into taking the tiny single bed . . .

She'd pretended she hadn't noticed come morning, pretended that she hadn't spent a good part of the night sitting up in bed, watching the other woman from across the room toss and turn and _whimper . . ._ She'd wanted to help, to comfort but she'd known instinctively that Magna would only reject anything she'd try to offer. She'd far more appreciate the illusion of ignorance that Miko offered the next morning. But it had hurt to watch.

At the back of her mind, though, there had been a thought, an inkling, a piece of the puzzle that made up Magna, attempting to inch its way into place . . . but she'd closed her eyes and shut it out, knocked the piece off the table, even as over the years she'd pondered that gaping hole in the final product, wary, trying not to speculate, right up until the day Magna had thrown that missing piece at her face - and it had all fit together at last.

She'd been shocked, horrified.

And yet at the same time, she hadn't been.

 _(_ _'Now that we've both killed. . . how many people have we killed, Miko?')_

And it had _hurt_ to have those words thrown at her when it was Magna who had held her through the night the first time she'd crossed that line, who hadn't needed to ask before slipping into her bedroll and wrapping her arms around Yumiko, bringing her close. She'd cried so many tears that night.

She wondered if Magna had cried when she'd murdered Lawson. If there had been anyone to comfort her, to wake her each time she drifted into a nightmare.

And somehow that hurt worse than the woman she loved using one of Yumiko's most vulnerable moments against her.

She knew she had been lucky, in some aspects.

They'd survived for three years without Yumiko ever having to take that step. She knew a lot of that wasn't luck, though; that it was down to Magna. Too many times, she'd gone to make that killing blow only to find that the other woman had gotten there first, at the last possible instant. And she was familiar enough with the way Magna worked, the way she _cared,_ to know it was intentional. She'd wanted to hug her for that, but also shake her, demand that she stop, that she didn't _need_ to do that, not for her. Because she was familiar by then with Magna's self-sacrificing and, all too often, self-destructive tendencies and Yumiko had hated being another reason for her to engage in them. But Magna hadn't understood - sometimes Yumiko thought she still didn't - that as much as she wanted to protect her, Yumiko also wanted to protect _Magna_ every bit as much.

(another source for arguments)

Until one day, it had been out of the younger woman's hands.

* * *

It was just the two of them at that point and they'd run into a group of men who had their eye on the pair's medicine supply - and a little something _extra_. Their numbers were superior, but Yumiko and Magna had the advantage when it came to skills and intelligence. As a result, they'd been greatly underestimated.

It was going well, two of the men were down - both unconscious - and Yumiko was just driving the butt of her gun into the third's head - ammo was in much greater supply back then and when they were together Sonja had been convinced that a gun range offered the best place for a date or friendly hangout, so Yumiko was familiar with how to operate one - when she heard a gasp. Ignoring the man as he dropped like a ton of bricks to the ground, she turned to see Magna struggling in the dirt. The final man was on top of her, restraining the woman with one arm as he held a knife to her throat with the other.

As she twisted, it dug into her skin, drawing blood.

Yumiko didn't think, didn't even realize her arm was moving until she felt the kickback of the gun jolting her bones, flinched at the ear-splitting _bang._

The man dropped, Magna grunting in surprise and pain as the full weight of his body landed on top of her and Yumiko stared.

She couldn't remember the following seconds, could almost attest to the fact that they hadn't passed at all, but the next thing she knew Magna was coming up beside her, slowly, out of the gun's range. Her hands wrapped around Yumiko's own - and she realized suddenly that they were shaking uncontrollably, her whole body was in fact, like a livewire, or that time one of her dogs had run into a lake after a duck only to return shivering and miserable moments later, and wasn't _that_ just incredibly dangerous what with a loaded gun in her hands, she should-

but then it was sliding out of her grasp, the safety clicking back into place before being shoved carefully into Magna's coat pocket-

"Miko?"

And then arms were around her, strong, safe, just for a second, until the last few minutes punched back into focus and Yumiko recoiled, taking the other woman's chin in her hand to angle her neck into better light, brushing her hair away so she could see, could make sure-

There'd been blood.

Magna allowed the action, even as her hands came up to rest on her hips, steadying her. "It's fine. It's fine, Miko. I'm okay," she reassured, voice soft, coaxing.

And Yumiko breathed a little easier to see the evidence of this: her skin raw and inflamed but only a small cut, just the slightest smear of blood-

But they'd been so _close._

Maybe the man hadn't intended to go further, maybe his desires veered towards a more drawn-out approach when it came to his prey - but maybe he would have. All it would have taken was a second and she would be holding Magna's bleeding corpse now instead of staring in shock at a stranger's six feet away.

So close.

Yumiko exhaled, drawing the other woman back into a longer embrace, breathing in her musky scent, feeling the beat of her heart against her chest, the assurance of its rapid rhythm, which had come so close to ceasing. . .

_Thank god._

Too soon reality made itself known as the two remembered that they weren't yet out of danger. There were still three unconscious men sprawled at their feet who could come around any second and start the fight back up again - and she wasn't sure she had any fight left in her at that moment.

With that thought, Yumiko pulled back from Magna with all too much reluctance and surveyed the space around them, stealing herself for what came next. The hand around hers squeezed and she breathed in the sensation a moment, closing her eyes against the tangible comfort it offered, before allowing herself to let go.

A single nod between them and they set to work.

Hastily, they went about gathering their things and checking the limp bodies over for anything useful. No guns, but a packet of matches, four water skins, five knives, and the second man to go down had come with a bow and quiver of arrows that he'd fumbled uselessly with throughout the chaos.

Yumiko inspected the last find with interest, remembering the semester during Junior year that she'd spent on the archery team. She'd been good, not the best, but adequate enough that their instructor had spent fifteen minutes trying to convince her not to quit when she'd decided to focus more on her studies.

She hadn't thought about that time since, which seemed an error on her part, considering they were living in a sicko wasteland and they couldn't rely on a limited supply of guns and ammo forever.

And, after today, she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to hold a gun again without shaking.

"You know how to use that thing?"

"Yeah," Yumiko breathed, throwing the quiver over her shoulder and snagging the almost empty cigarette packet peaking out of the man's pocket on impulse. She hadn't smoked since her father's cancer diagnosis but she didn't think two or three would kill her and she sorely needed it after the day they'd had. At the rate things were going, she was more likely to get bitten by a sicko or stabbed by any number of dangerous individuals than live long enough to get cancer herself.

Magna, who'd never seen her smoke, eyed the steal with confusion and some small measure of disapproval - though, she hardly had any room to talk since Yumiko had been the one to nag her into quitting her _own_ cigarette habit - before continuing with her search without comment.

There was nothing else to find. No food at all, though Magna grinned upon scoring a frayed packet of expired chewing gum. It made sense. You didn't risk encounters with other human beings in this place if you were doing _well_.

They must have been desperate.

Just like everyone.

Just like them, so many times over the last few years.

They were all just trying to survive.

"Hey." Fingers nudged at her wrist and Yumiko only just kept herself from flinching. "You done? Cos we should get out of here before these idiots wake back up."

Involuntarily, Yumiko glanced over at the one man who _wouldn_ _'t_ be getting back up - ever.

Magna followed her gaze. "Try not to think about it too hard. It won't change anything, just drive you crazy."

Yumiko swallowed. "I should-"

"I already checked. It was a headshot. He won't be getting back up."

 _No, he won_ _'t._

"Hey," a hand slipped into hers, drawing her gaze back, stealing her focus. "It's done. _Let it_ be done."

Blinking back the sting in her eyes, Yumiko nodded and allowed the other woman to lead them away.

* * *

Weight shifting on top of her drew Yumiko back from the memory. Realizing that, at some point, she'd allowed her eyes to fall shut, she forced them open again with some effort. The touch of cool air briefly alerted her to Magna's hand leaving the warmth of her stomach.

Perhaps an hour into their cuddling, it had crept under the edges of her shirt, icy skin nearly causing her to jolt back but she'd forced herself to hold still, afraid that any sudden movement might scare the touch away. This was familiar territory. Magna tended to run cold - which was somewhat ironic in Yumiko's opinion - and she had lost count of the number of nights her hands had sought out warm flesh to latch onto, long before their relationship had escalated into anything sexual.

It had been comforting to know that this ritual hadn't changed, even if things between them had.

Magna had discarded one dirty and blood-caked glove before slipping her hand under her shirt and Yumiko had appreciated the consideration - mostly because it had allowed her to feel the full impression of the other woman's skin against hers, to revel at how, even after so many years, it could still elicit goosebumps across her flesh that had nothing to do with the cold.

She almost protested at its departure now but satisfied herself with watching Magna's movements instead. The 'tiger' figurine had been placed on the forest floor beside them earlier - Magna lacking the necessary pockets to tuck it away in - but she'd kept it within close range and Yumiko had noticed her eyes straying to it frequently throughout the night; as if she was afraid the treasure would disappear if she didn't check on it often enough. The hand that had been on her stomach fiddled with it now, her other one refusing to leave the space where it still gripped Yumiko's. Both things the younger woman now held onto with a vaguely desperate intensity.

Yumiko stared at the tiger, thinking of the night she'd stayed up making it, unable to sleep after Kelly had broken the news to her of the cave.

She'd needed something to keep busy with, to occupy her mind so she didn't go insane.

As Yumiko had etched tiredly away at the piece of wood, she hadn't been able to stop herself from wondering whether she was carving out a gift, or a grave offering.

The possibility of losing Connie was heart-wrenching enough, but the mere prospect of losing Magna was unthinkable.

Thirteen years together - almost her entire adult life - seemed to have woven the other woman into her very DNA. If she ever lost her, Yumiko knew she would survive - she would make herself - but it was impossible to picture that future, to fathom just how much of herself would be left, and how much would die with Magna.

So she had made a tiger to remind her of just how fierce the other woman was, to remember the strength and stubborn survival instinct that _had_ to be enough to keep her alive.

And as she had worked, she'd remembered. Remembered all the little things that had made her fall in love with Magna in the first place, the things that made it so impossible to let her go.

You only had to be Magna's friend for a little while to realize that she loved intensely. Cautiously, sparsely, but intensely. Once that love was there, there was nothing she wouldn't do to protect you, to avenge you.

Yumiko tried not to think of the little girl who had been Magna's cousin, of tiny Maisie Carter, who had looked so small even for ten-years-old, staring out of the school photo she had found in Magna's file. Now wasn't the time.

Maybe that was why they had fallen together, despite their differences. They both cared too much, Miko was just the only one who didn't think to hide it.

As angry with the other woman as she'd still been - doubtful that the hurt and sense of betrayal would ever fade - slowly, she'd started to forgive her. She'd almost felt ashamed for doing so, at how easy it was.

But it was _Magna._

Magna who'd saved her life more times than she could count; who during a supply run that first month, had nearly tackled a man in a fight over the last box of tofu because she knew that meat still made Yumiko squeamish, even if she would never voice a complaint; who sang Disney songs to herself when she thought no-one could hear; and had carved out a wooden figurine - just as Yumiko was doing then - for the graves of everyone they'd lost, even if there had been no physical grave to place them on. After Judith had become obsessed with the Harry Potter series, she'd styled a hippogriff from a piece of Jelutong wood that she'd been saving ever since coming across it in someone's backyard - the toy was so beautiful in its intricacy that it was almost breathtaking. Yumiko still smiled to remember just how flustered Magna had gotten when the child had leapt to hug her, gushing over the gift - even as her heart had ached at the shock and confusion swimming across the ex-con's face, the way her body had pulled taught against such freely offered affection, at the impact of having such a small body in her arms again.

Magna never woke her without reason - even though she herself had been unable to break from her early-rise prison schedule - knowing that Yumiko hated mornings with a passion that bordered on fanatical - something she had never even _told_ Magna. The other woman had just known, in the same way she'd known so many other things that Yumiko had never given voice to.

And whilst she could make a list of all the shit Magna did which pissed her off, of all the times Yumiko had witnessed her fuck up, it would be but a fraction of the size of the list of reasons Magna gave her to smile, to laugh, to feel safe, to _hope_.

For ten years, they'd almost never spent a day apart and it had _terrified_ Yumiko that she could be facing a future without Magna ever being by her side again.

Even now, now that she held her in her arms, safe and whole, now that she no longer had to _wonder,_ to spend the night aching with not knowing what was happening to her, the threat of that possible future still loomed over her. Life had no guarantee and death nipped at their heels no matter how fast they ran, or how far.

So, no, she couldn't sleep.

She wasn't sure she'd ever be able to sleep again.

* * *

" _Some people are like singularities. Get close enough and you will be uncontrollably consumed in an infinite attraction and will cease to exist apart from them."_

― _J.S.B. Morse, Now and at the Hour of Our Death_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I gave y'all a hug. It's not much of one I know but it's the only way I could really work it in. Now if we could just get them to hug on the actual show. . . I don't think I'd know what to do with myself if that really happened. I've been waiting so long for it.
> 
> Making Magna's last name being Carter was just a little tongue in cheek joke for me. I know, it sucks. But I will get through this troubling time by making terrible jokes and you can't stop me
> 
> so next chapter is the final one for this fic, y'all ready? Like I said, I'm working on some short sequels but I don't know when I'll get them out - I'm gonna be focusing on vidding I think for a bit.


	9. If You Love Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> So I keep getting confused with the timeline I set up so I think I might just write it out again in case you're also getting confused. Magna went to prison when she was 17 (almost 18). She met Yumiko when she was 19 (almost 20). And was released around about 21.
> 
> this flashback scene was sort of inspired by the ending scene of Spring and that one in s9 we're they're all sharing a drink on the couch (such happier times can we please return to them?)
> 
> Whelp this has been an absolute labour of love and I'm kinda sad to see it end. I hope y'all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'm honestly still so surprised I managed to get it finished - that's basically unheard of for me.
> 
> Sidenote: after watching Spring I got inspired to start writing a fic (that would sort of be an AU spinoff set after this one) where Magna gets bit but doesn't turn (at least, not into a walker). And it's also a bit inspired by Z Nation. Is that something y'all would be interested in? I will probably break your heart in it but I am also not like the twd writers - I will be putting that shit back together again and giving you a happy ending. Also, Connie, Kelly, Judith and Daryl would feature a bit in it (I'd write Luke cos he's awesome but I honestly don't have any idea how to write him so nope).
> 
> Again thankyou so much if you've left a review, and also you know just for reading this in general. Again, if there's something you want to see in one of the sequels, let me know :) Also, telling me your favorite scenes/parts are like my happy place, I super appreciate when people do that.

_"I love her and that's the beginning and end of everything."_

_— F. Scott Fitzgerald, "Letter to Isabelle Amorous_

* * *

Two years following the end of the world, and the two had finally managed to find a moment of peace in the storm; to relax and revel in each other's company. Something that Yumiko felt they'd been sorely needing for a long while.

It was strange to consider but, although they were practically in each other's pockets almost every minute of every day, there hadn't actually been a lot of time to _enjoy_ each other. To talk about things that didn't revolve around life and death matters: finding their next meal; their next shelter; what direction they should or shouldn't take; and analyzing their supplies, trying to determine whether they would have enough to see them through the next week, let alone the next month or winter. The essentials ruled their thoughts and their words. Occasionally they would veer off into territory more familiar to the days of before, when the world had still been safe and easy to understand, but it was difficult to maintain. Being constantly on edge, not to mention exhausted from the endless moving around, fighting, hunting, and keeping watch at night wasn't exactly conducive to pleasurable conversation. They'd had more intimate talks back when Yumiko was only seeing Magna every other night during her work shifts and the occasional coffee date.

She missed those times - and not just because she hadn't been continuously in fear for their lives then. She missed being able to just _be_ with Magna.

In the past two years, Yumiko had felt almost like she was losing her, bit by bit, even when she was standing less than a breath away.

Losing herself, too.

But tonight their bellies were full and they'd found a shack that didn't appear to have seen any visitors for months. There'd been no sign of the dead for days, or the living for that matter.

It was as close to peace as one was likely to get in the apocalypse.

And there had been no question about wasting it.

Without saying a word, they'd both decided to seize this one chance presented to them and at least _try_ to relax.

'Try' being the operative word. It was easier said than done.

In the beginning, it didn't seem like they'd be able to manage it at all. Yumiko still felt like she needed to be _doing_ something and Magna was antsy, constantly shifting in place, hands twitching at her sides, nails digging into her thighs as her gaze flicked every other second to the cobwebbed window, reassuring herself of their safety.

As it turned out, survival instincts were a lot harder to turn off than they were to turn on.

Then, in the middle of some poking around as she tried to find _something_ to do with her nervous energy, Yumiko found an old dusty bottle of wine nestled in a crate. It was somewhat of a light bulb moment and Magna narrowed her eyes at the slowly rising grin on her face.

What the hell?

Perhaps it wasn't the smartest move but it _would_ do wonders in getting them to unwind, at least just a bit. They wouldn't drink enough to get drunk, that could very well be suicide - and, from the bottle's size, she didn't think that was even a possibility, at any rate - just enough to get tipsy, to dampen some of those blasted nerves.

Magna was reluctant to start with - for whilst she was reckless and impulsive, she could also at times be infuriatingly overcautious, particularly in those early days and especially when Yumiko's life was at stake - but refusing to give up on her grand plan that easily, Yumiko tugged the other woman down onto the moth-bitten couch and shoved the wine into her hands, smiling invitingly - the smile she'd learnt over the years Magna was powerless to resist.

The other woman might be better with a blade but Yumiko had her own weapons to fall back on.

"It's not like we'll even get past tipsy. Besides, you did promise you'd take me out for a drink after I spent all night babysitting your drunken arse that one time." Yumiko had been happy to do it, but she knew Magna had always felt like she owed her for the incident, like it was some kind of _hardship_ rather than something Yumiko would have done for anyone she loved - and done gladly.

The younger woman sighed, though there was an edge of fond amusement to her eyes, and gave in, taking a swig. She grimaced at the taste, jerked back. "What the fuck is this shit?"

She practically threw the bottle back at Yumiko who was relieved her reflexes had gotten a lot sharper over the last couple of years or all her plans for the evening would have shattered on the floor.

"Mm, 1947 Cheval Blanc." She pretended to read the label, even though she had already done so within seconds of first picking up the bottle. "That's actually pretty good quality, considering. We're rather lucky."

Magna stared at her. "It tastes like piss."

Yumiko just grinned and raised an eyebrow, holding the bottle back out to her after savoring her own sip - God, she'd missed wine.

The other woman hesitated, eying the drink like it was some rotting sicko's head. But in the end, she could never resist Yumiko's smile and sighed, accepting it. "Next time we're getting tequila. Or fucking bourbon, at least."

Yumiko relaxed back into the couch, smiling lazily.

Magna always did have trouble denying her anything and she had no qualms about using that to her advantage. Especially now. They _needed_ this. They were both run ragged, equally over-stressed, and Yumiko was beginning to notice the toll it was taking on their health. Some days, it was a struggle to even eat because of how nauseous the constant anxiety made her, and Magna was barely sleeping at all anymore. It seemed like every time she woke during the night now, the younger woman was already up, sagging against a tree in the most upright position her exhausted body could manage, clutching a knife in her hand as she watched their surroundings.

She was worried about her.

She was worried about herself.

They couldn't continue like this forever.

"Well, beggars can't be choosers. Especially in this climate."

They needed a break.

So she would make them take it.

"Right." Magna snorted but sank slightly back into her own corner of the couch, some of the rigidity at last starting to bleed out of her body. "But if this goes sideways, I'm holding you fully responsible."

"You know, I've never been the one to cause trouble. Could be fun." She smirked and Magna grinned in return, forcing back another swallow before handing her the bottle.

"Just don't let it get to your head. I don't think the earth could handle a wild Yumiko on top of everything else."

She chuckled and drank. "You're right. It's already got its hands full with your crazy arse."

Magna's eyes danced. "But it's such a nice ass."

"Well, that's not even up for debate. Why do you think I tried so hard to get it out of prison?"

They shared a grin before lapsing into comfortable silence.

It didn't take long for Magna to suggest a drinking game, though, and that carried them through the next hour, the distance between them growing less and less with each gulp of wine. Yumiko kept careful watch of her own body and movements, not wanting to ruin the moment by getting too close and scaring Magna away. Touch was still a volatile thing when it came to her - something she seemed to both crave and fear - and Yumiko never knew exactly what kind of reaction she was going to get. At times, that was difficult because she had always been a rather tactile person and, given that there was no-one she wanted to touch more than Magna - let alone the fact that there was no-one else _to_ touch in this hellscape - she was constantly having to stamp down on her own impulses.

Sometimes she slipped up.

But tonight she needn't have worried about that.

It quickly became apparent not all too long into the drinking game - of which the rules seemed to change every ten seconds according to Magna, if there were even rules to begin with (Yumiko had her doubts) - that the younger woman was somewhat of a lightweight, at least in comparison to her.

It made sense, she supposed. She couldn't remember ever passing a night in her twenties where she didn't pair looking over a case file with a full glass of Merlot - and Yumiko would be the first to admit that she'd been a bit of a partier in those first couple of years out of high school, perhaps a consequence of being so straight-laced until that point. Magna, on the other hand, seemed to have an all or nothing approach to drinking, at least in the year Yumiko knew her when alcohol was still readily available to all. She rarely drank but, when she did, it was always to get shitfaced drunk - which, to Yumiko's knowledge, had only happened maybe. . .three times? For the most part, though, Magna stayed away from the stuff.

Which was why she'd probably started getting so giggly after what could only amount to a glass and a half.

It was amusing to watch. Most of all because the other woman seemed to actually be enjoying herself, even as she continued to complain about the horrid taste - Yumiko made a mental note to find them a bottle of tequila to surprise her for her next birthday, especially if the results of a little drinking were _this_ : Magna smiling and bursting into laughter every couple of moments over things that weren't even all that funny. She'd spent three minutes trying to hide the bottle from Yumiko whilst the other woman pretended to be annoyed, unable to contain her smile when, at one point, Magna almost fell off the couch whilst leaning over too far to keep the treasure out of her reach.

The ex-con pouted at her in betrayal upon hearing the obvious amusement at her expense - and, yes, it was an actual pout (god, she wished she had a camera) - and Yumiko couldn't contain her laugh as she grabbed the other woman's arm and pulled her up, swallowing slightly as their noses momentarily knocked together before she retreated back to her (safe) end of the couch.

All in all, Yumiko was having quite the entertaining time - particularly when Magna, now tipsy as all hell, started shuffling down the couch, closer and closer until at last she leant back, settling her head on Yumiko's lap. The older woman stilled for a moment, not quite sure what to do with her hands - though, luckily one was still occupied with a half-empty bottle of wine - before allowing her free hand to rest on Magna's shoulder.

This situation wasn't unheard of for them but usually it was the other way around. She suspected Magna preferred to be the one sitting up, holding Yumiko - keeping watch, forever on guard. There was a certain vulnerability in allowing yourself to lie back, succumbing entirely to another's touch and protection.

A trust.

It wasn't something that Yumiko could take nonchalantly to, not when she knew how much the act meant, but she could at least pretend to be as at ease with it as Magna seemed in this moment.

After about fifteen minutes of wriggling around in her lap - and Yumiko had to bite her tongue on multiple groans - the younger woman started cajoling her into braiding her hair. Once she began letting Yumiko touch it last year, she'd discovered very quickly just how much Magna _liked_ it being touch - and she had come up with some of the most amusing (not to mention, implausible) excuses to entice the former lawyer into doing so.

However, tonight she dropped all pretenses, quite plainly _demanding_ that Yumiko do so or she would steal the rest of the wine (again) - and she rolled her eyes at the faint grimace that followed Magna's sentence as she seemed to be picturing having to finish off the the 'funky ass' drink by herself.

If only she knew just how much Yumiko didn't _need_ to be convinced; that the older woman was constantly looking for excuses to touch her hair as well.

One day, they would laugh about this.

They'd have to.

"You've dated before, right?"

Magna's voice drew her back from her reflection and she frowned, taking a moment to register the words and their meaning, parse them through her mind which was running just a _tad_ slower than normal.

"Mmm," she hummed, considering the question as she continued to work on the plaits she'd been littering through Magna's hair for the last hour. It wasn't her best work, but she was kind of distracted by the feel of the other woman's hair in her hands and the comforting weight of her head in her lap. It was doing irritating things to her stomach. "Once or twice."

And wasn't _that_ just another lifetime away? Dating - what a concept. She couldn't even fathom such an undertaking now. Or ever again, in fact.

Where would one even go out? Perhaps slaying sickos together could count as a romantic experience if you made a game of it - and didn't get bit.

But, god, she missed coffee shops. And going to the movies. Even that horrid gun range Sonja used to drag her to sounded almost appealing now.

It still didn't seem quite real. That all of that was just gone. That it would, in all likelihood, remain gone.

Forever.

The world would never regain what it had lost.

 _Oh, how lucky we are to live through such times_ , she thought with a touch of bitterness.

She really hadn't appreciated the world they'd had before, not nearly enough. They'd been so _lucky_ and they'd never even realized it.

Although some of them had been luckier than others, she remembered, tying off one plait and squeezing Magna's shoulder a second, assuring herself of her presence.

The other woman barely noticed the gesture, still lost in her own musings. "long-term relationships?"

"One." And hadn't _that_ been a disaster?

Magna nodded, remembering the woman Yumiko had told her about - the cheat who'd somehow managed to smash sixty-percent of Yumiko's self-esteem _and_ break her heart, even if what she had felt for her couldn't in any way be considered love, though infatuation was another matter. She watched as Magna scowled momentarily at the memory before allowing the anger to pass.

It seemed tipsy Magna could be rather mellow. Quite a contrast to drunk Magna - or even sober Magna, for that matter. It could prove to be a refreshing change of pace.

"Have you ever been in love?"

Scratch that. Give her drunk Magna any day.

Yumiko hesitated, thrown by the question, not sure she should answer truthfully, or even at all - Magna was good at detecting other's bullshit and she wasn't keen to test whether that was a skill that remained even after getting sloshed. Yumiko had always resolved to be honest with her - to a point. That point being the depth of her own feelings towards the other woman. She wondered how fast Magna would be able to run away as inebriated as she was. With their luck, she'd probably trip over something and break a bone or two - and then an army of sickos would show up to make Yumiko _really_ regret all her life choices.

Hmm, no. Better not.

"No."

Magna hummed, considering that as her head lolled to the side, gazing out the window. The sun was beginning to rise. Had they really stayed up all night talking and drinking wine? God, it was like they'd time-traveled back to before all this began. It was almost unsettling how she could feel that increasingly distant reality creeping into the one they reluctantly inhabited now.

"What do you think it's like?"

Yumiko stared at her a moment, wondering what in the hell had led the other woman to start down this track. They'd had a run-in with some sickos a couple of days ago and Magna had taken a tumble. Had she hit her head? Because this was just. . .

Magna. Talking about feelings _._

Magna talking about _love_.

Maybe she'd drunk too much wine, after all. But no, she didn't appear to be a highly combustible mess of emotions right now so she probably wasn't drunk.

Apparently tipsy Magna was also incredibly introspective.

Yumiko felt like she should have been warned about that before she decided to throw a bottle at her.

Flustered, she grabbed some more strands of hair in an attempt to find something to distract herself with. "I don't know. Safe."

Frustrating.

At least, from where she'd been standing the past few years.

" _Safe_?" Magna chuckled as though Yumiko had just suggested sickos were the friendliest of house guests. "I would think it's terrifying."

 _And_ **_why_ ** _does that not surprise me?_

She focused on starting another plait. "Maybe if you think of all the ways it can go wrong then, yes. . . I suppose it could be terrifying."

Magna raised an eyebrow. "Well, what are the chances of it going _right_?" She paused, eyes darting away from Yumiko, back to the window. "I've lost people I love. I imagine losing someone you're _in_ love with hurts a lot worse."

Yumiko paused, wondering how best to counter that, even as she pushed down the sadness that was trying to eat at her heart upon hearing those words. She could relate to that fear, having lost everyone she herself loved. Everyone but Magna. "Well, that's not a certainty. You could in fact live to be old and grey together." She tugged on the finished plait, catching Magna's attention and trying for a teasing smile, attempting to return some of the earlier levity to the conversation.

Things had been going so well.

Yes, Yumiko had been battling with some worrying levels of horniness throughout the greater part of the night, but when was that _not_ a risk factor when being around this woman?

Magna snorted and turned away. "Maybe before. But in this world? Love probably lasts a second."

Yumiko swallowed, her words stoking some of the fears she had been wrestling with over the past two years. If anything ever happened to Magna. . .

She covered the sudden surge of anxiety with another smile. "Well, I've stuck around a bit longer than a second."

_And I have no plans of going anywhere._

Magna hummed once more, reaching for Yumiko's hand before she was able to start on another plait - _drat_ \- and pulling it onto her chest so she could begin toying with her fingers. She did this for a long while and although Yumiko could recognize an avoidance tactic when she saw one, she was almost impressed that Magna hadn't flinched back from the implication of love in her words, even if it wasn't _that_ kind of love.

"Mmm, but you're different. You're Miko. I'd never let anything happen to you," she decided at last. Yumiko's stomach started doing flip-flops and she wished to high heaven it could be blamed on the wine. "Besides. I didn't choose you. You just sort of. . . happened."

She sounded almost put out by the fact.

Yumiko resisted the urge to roll her eyes, wondering how it was possible for someone to be so oblivious to their own feelings. "You think you get to choose who you fall in love with?"

If only.

But, no, even if given a choice, she knew she would choose Magna. Every single time, in every reality. Frustrating levels of obliviousness and all.

Magna hesitated, fingers tightening around Yumiko's hand a second before she returned to her fiddling. ". . . I hope so."

Maybe they _were_ starting to veer towards emotional drunk - the sad version - but as Yumiko waited, holding her breath, the other woman just continued to play with her hand, expression unchanging, even if there was a hint of nervousness in the gesture.

The former lawyer exhaled in relief, even as she tried to suppress the shiver Magna's attentive touch evoked in her. She could remember a time when Magna had been afraid to let her this close, when even a handshake had been too much. But now she lay with her head in her lap, her fingers winding around Yumiko's own, seeming almost. . . content, despite the direction their conversation had taken.

It was certainly progress, so Yumiko resolved not to push the love thing. Not yet.

God, maybe not ever.

Not when losing _this_ might be the trade-off.

For now, she would just enjoy what parts of her Magna could bring herself to give.

They were more than enough.

Yumiko sighed, thinking back on Magna's answer, her heart starting to ache as anger rose up in her gut, directed at everyone who had ever hurt this young woman, all the circumstances that had torn people from her life. She wished she could go back and change that, take the pain away; find Magna before the universe made her fear all the wonderful things it had to offer.

But she couldn't.

"Okay," she sighed, "Okay," and placated herself with the promise not to be another one of those people.

She couldn't undo the damage, didn't have that power. And even if she did, she was aware that doing so would perhaps undo _Magna,_ erase so much of the woman she held in her arms now. Maybe that would be worth it. But Yumiko also didn't think that she possessed that right, nor was she ready to lose any inch of the person she loved so much - even the parts that hurt.

Still, she wondered at that damage. At the wounds Magna still hid from her even now when all she wanted to do was to tend them, in any way the younger woman would let her. Not because she wanted to erase their history or because she wished to make Magna easier to bear - more approachable, less guarded, lacking her trademark rage -but because she couldn't stand to see her in pain, to hear how lost she felt at times, how scared.

She just wanted to help.

She didn't know how not to.

She wanted Magna to have _everything._ Everything good the world had to offer.

And that included love.

 _Her_ love.

But she didn't know how to offer it without making the other woman run a million miles away.

Yumiko had lost people, too - so many people - but she didn't fear love, couldn't imagine ever doing so. Life without it just seemed so . . . sparse. And nothing had convinced her of that more than meeting Magna, and falling for her.

This feeling. . . it was so intense, so deep that Yumiko was sure it had to be written into her very cells. It could be frustrating and - yes, she supposed - terrifying. But it was also exhilarating. Sometimes it seemed as though the world had gained more colors since she had come to love Magna, was certain that it hadn't been nearly as bright before; _knew_ that she hadn't experienced this many feelings ever in her life - the good and the bad - so overwhelming that sometimes she could barely stand it, and yet could no longer imagine a life in which she _didn't_ feel so much - and all for just one person. . . one special person.

And, yes, she felt _safe,_ more than she ever had with anyone else.

And she suspected - was almost certain - that Magna felt the same way. Her words may deny the fact but, by now, it had become apparent in her every action. She couldn't hide it, not from Yumiko. And she honestly had no idea whether those attempts were intentional or not. Whether Magna was in denial of her own feelings, afraid to reveal them, or if she honestly just didn't _know._

She struggled with feelings, Yumiko was aware of that. The only ones she seemed readily able to recognize were fear and anger, that much had become clear over the years. It appeared at times to Yumiko that Magna filtered all her emotions through those two channels: sadness became anger; love became fear - fear of what she could lose - or anger as well - anger rising from protective instinct, rage at the thought of that loved one ever being harmed.

And guilt became anger. At herself. At everyone around her. At the world.

Yumiko had seen _all_ of this, had tried to parse out over the years so many reactions that had been downright confusing, emotional outbursts that seemed so contrary to the trigger that had caused them.

(and she couldn't help but think that it must be an exhausting way to live, even if it did make things simpler)

Magna had spent the anniversary of her brother's death last year spouting off about all the ways he had annoyed her in life, grunting furiously as she brought an axe down on several trees, starting a collection for that winter's firewood.

Yumiko had watched helplessly, offered to take the axe for a while herself so the other woman could finally have a break, but Magna had jerked away at her touch, glared at her before stalking off to find another tree to take her rage out on.

And yet, for the rest of the week, she had been unusually clingy. Barely allowing a foot of space between them at all times, eyes following Yumiko's every movement almost pathologically, one hand never straying more than a centimeter from the knife strapped to her thigh. Edgy. Snappy. But _clingy._

It had taken four days for Yumiko to realize that what she was witnessing in the other woman was fear _._

Fear that she would lose her. That some harm would come to her. That Yumiko might walk away and never come back.

And some of the frustration that she had been trying to keep a lid on ever since the axe incident finally erupted past her restraint. Angry herself now but also hurt - hurting for Magna - she'd pulled the other woman into her arms despite her protests, enduring the frantic shoves at her chest that bordered on painful, waiting for the storm to lose its thunder.

She'd understood the futility of that protest and what it was Magna really needed.

Sooner than she'd expected, the desperate twisting had started to cease and suddenly, instead of trying to pull away from her, the younger woman was pushing forward. Her fingers driving into the fabric of Yumiko's shirt, nails digging into her skin as she clung, as though afraid that Yumiko might suddenly regret her action, recognize her mistake and shove Magna away.

She hadn't cried but Yumiko had felt the violent heaving of her chest as she choked on her breaths, the wild beat of her heart, and so she had only held Magna closer, refusing to let go until that breathing returned to normal, until the fingers gripping her skin had become pliant, the body in her arms growing comfortable instead of constricting.

She'd waited until Magna was ready to let go and, even then, she had kept her hand in hers for the rest of the day, hoping that this one tether could be enough.

She thought of that now as she wound a strand of hair behind Magna's ear, heart heavy. "You know. . . if you ever do fall in love, you can talk to me. Tell me all about it." _Let me help before it scares you more than you can bear_. "I've heard I'm a good listener."

Magna smirked, disbelieving. Clearly she doubted that she would ever need to partake of such an offer, that the future Yumiko suggested was little more than a fantasy. "Oh, I know. And I will." She rose from her lap, sitting back to reach for the bottle of wine they'd been sharing between them - the thing that had started this whole mess in the first place.

Yumiko was long past beginning to regret her _'_ brilliant' idea for unwinding. But. . . perhaps they had needed to have this conversation. Obviously, it must have been weighing on Magna's mind, though God only knew for how long. Things like this didn't just spring up out of nowhere - and she _had_ been rather distant the last couple of weeks, quieter.

"Believe me, you'll be the first I tell," Magna added, eyes dancing playfully. She took a languid sip before holding the bottle out to her. "But it won't happen."

Yumiko raised a brow but accepted the offering, wondering if the other woman would think it odd or offensive if she laughed in her face. Probably. Though she could certainly blame the wine. But, no, she still had some restraint. Enough that she could manage to keep a straight face. She was a lawyer, after all - she'd wagered her career on being able to do exactly that.

Taking a slow sip, she wondered over Magna and all her complexities, all the ways she could drive her crazy. God, she drove her crazy. "Okay. I'll hold you to that."

Magna narrowed her eyes. "It won't happen."

"Okay."

"I can see you judging me."

Ah, perhaps her face wasn't that straight, after all.

Well, she was a lesbian so the odds were against her from the start.

Magna glared, but her eyes remained playful. "You don't believe me."

"Oh, I believe you." _Or, rather,_ _I believe **you** believe you. "_I just don't like your chances. You're too much off a marshmallow to never fall in love."

Magna scowled and swiped the bottle back. "Just for that, you get no more wine." She drained the rest - gagging - before settling herself back down in Yumiko's lap, eyelids drooping. "'m not a marshmallow."

This time she did roll her eyes, reaching out a hand to card her fingers through Magna's hair, smirking as the other woman almost seemed to purr, turning over and nuzzling into her thigh. Sleepy tipsy Magna was much cuter than drunk Magna and Yumiko was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

"If you say so."

"'m not."

_Methinks the lady doth protest too much._

"Shh. Go to sleep."

But she already had, mouth parted slightly, one hand curled limply around the hem of Yumiko's shirt, the other still clutching the lawyer's to her chest.

It was trapped between them and she could already feel the beginnings of pins and needles setting in.

_Wonderful._

But she couldn't bear to pull it free.

A minute later, the snores started.

* * *

_"But love is much like a dam: if you allow a tiny crack to form through which_

_only a trickle of water can pass, that trickle will quickly bring down the whole structure, and soon no one will be able to control the force of the current. For when those walls come down, then love takes over, and it no longer matters what is possible or impossible; it doesn't even matter whether we can keep the loved one at our side. To love is to lose control."_

_― Paulo Coelho, By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept_

* * *

When it was early morning and Magna's eyes were beginning to strain from looking at the tiger in her hand so long - but she needed _something_ to focus on, to keep her from falling into the darkness that was begging for her at this point, because a part of her was scared that when she woke up, she wouldn't be here but back in that cave, the horde of sickos moaning all around her, and Miko so, so far away; lost to her - the other woman's voice wrestled her attention away.

She startled slightly but didn't drop the gift, instead clutching it tighter, daring gravity to take it from her.

"You know, they're symbols of protection in China. I remember visiting once during the New Year and lots of kids would have these hats or shoes shaped like a tiger's head on. It's meant to protect them from evil spirits."

Magna forgot sometimes how much life Yumiko had lived compared to her. She'd traveled a lot, to more places than she could list off the top of her head, whilst Magna had never even left the state she'd been born in before states as a concept had disappeared altogether. Those places seemed like fairytales now. Until ten years ago, they'd been a far off dream, a promise of one day . . . maybe. But now she was as likely to visit another continent as she was to grow wings.

Just another thing that the sickos had destroyed.

"In folktales, they kill evil men whilst protecting the good."

Magna stiffened, eyes flicking up to Miko's face before quickly darting away. So that answered _when_ she'd made it.

Yumiko didn't miss the action. "I don't agree with what you did, Magna, but I _understand_ why you did it. Why you stole things from Hilltop and why you ruined our chances at Alexandria by refusing to give up our weapons at first." Magna flinched. "That's never been a question for me."

Realizing that this was a conversation she needed to be sitting up for, she raised herself somewhat reluctantly off of the other woman's warmth, not missing the sigh of equal regret that escaped the body beneath her as she pulled away.

Miko sat up, too.

Hesitating, Yumiko reached out and threaded a strand of hair behind her ear, hand coming to rest on Magna's cheek in a way that was so _right,_ like it belonged there, like it had always belonged there and always would.

How had she forgotten that?

"You love so . . . _hard,_ and so fiercely, even to your own detriment. It's one of the things I love most about you." She cracked a wry smile. "Even if it can be a pain in the arse. And it scares me sometimes because I really don't know how far you'd go, what you could do to others, and it _terrifies_ me that one day I could lose you because of that. Because if it came down to you or me, or Connie, or Kelly, or Luke . . . I know you wouldn't hesitate. And that scares the shit out of me."

Magna snorted. "Pot. Kettle. Black."

Miko's lips quirked upwards at that. "Why do you think we work so well together?" Her smile grew even wider as Magna's own hand came up to rest on hers, trapping it against her cheek.

"'Well'? I kind of thought we were falling apart."

Miko's free hand pinched the skin of her thigh. Magna narrowed her eyes. "'Well' when you're not being an asshole."

"You love that I'm an asshole." And now she was smiling as well, a full one, teeth breaking out as Miko shook with silent laughter.

"Don't push it."

"You do," she needled, leaning in closer. She hadn't intended anything by it but suddenly she was aware of just how close that was, of Miko's breath against her lips, the warmth of her eyes centimeters from hers. She swallowed, hand clenching around the one still resting on her cheek, trying to draw strength, restraint, anything to keep from closing that gap.

How many times had they kissed in their short romantic relationship? Not as many as she would have liked, she knew that much. They'd always been private about that, at first because they hadn't wanted to involve the others in any drama if one day they came to the conclusion that bringing sex and all that went with it into their relationship was a mistake; that they'd misjudged their own feelings (okay, that had probably been more her own worry than Miko's, to think on it now). And then it had become a sort of habit. She'd liked that this thing between them was just theirs, that other people couldn't turn it over in their heads and make judgments about something they knew _nothing_ about. They'd told Connie, Kelly and Luke eventually, of course, mostly because it had been impossible to hide some of their more . . . explosive arguments (at which point, their friends would try to do damage control or make themselves scarce, none of them really wanting to involve themselves in _that_ kind of mess, though Connie did make an effort more than the others). They'd also been sprung upon in more than a few compromising positions - much to their embarrassment and dismay.

Even so, they'd still found moments to steal a private kiss or two. They'd also, on occasion, seized the chance to do much, much more than that - moreso after they'd entered into the relative safety of Hilltop's walls (at least compared to the danger they were used to).

So why did this feel like the seconds before their first kiss? Why was her heart banging on the door to her chest, begging her to either grow a pair or run the fuck away forever?

Miko's eyes flicked down to her mouth and her stomach flipped, the action like Pavlov's bell, commanding her to respond to the invitation like she had so often in the past.

Still, she held herself back.

Even _her_ brand of impulsiveness had its limits.

Something passed over Miko's face, a verdict, and she felt the pull of the hand still resting on her cheek, gradual but sure. A breath escaped her and in the next instant Miko captured it with her lips - chapped, cold from the night air, and slightly trembly.

It felt like coming home.

Magna flinched, almost startled by the sensation, the relief that came with it, and the other woman moved to pull away. Without thinking, Magna's hand reached out and captured her head, keeping her there. The momentary space between their mouths closed once more as Miko relaxed into her touch.

Giving in had never felt so good.

How had she thought she could give this up?

How could she ever say goodbye to this, to _them?_

But that was the thing. She _couldn't_ say goodbye.

So she'd ran.

Too soon, the need for air became impossible to ignore, and the both of them pulled back with a gasp, Miko's nose nudging along the length of her skin, her breath hot and audible and _there._

They still fit together perfectly.

If she had the energy she might have pressed for more - and the desire in her chest urged her to say to hell with it and push forward anyway - but she really was dead on her feet and Miko seemed to be not far behind in that regard. Not to mention, the circumstances of their environment didn't lend well to an ideal place to fuck - it would certainly be a tale for the ages if they were interrupted by a gaggle of sickos and had to fight or flee buck-ass naked - and besides, after everything they'd been through, Magna wanted to take her time; to fully appreciate what she had been so willing to throw away. Slipping her hand into Miko's pants in order to get her off as quickly as possible wasn't exactly what she had in mind for reunion sex.

So she pecked the other woman on the lips, stealing one last kiss, before allowing some more space to descend between them, fingers leaving the tangles of the Miko's hair to swipe away the tear running down her cheek. Despite the clear wetness of Miko's skin, she was beaming, her face flushed, and it was the first time Magna had seen her truly happy since the day she'd been ambushed with the faces of all those people they knew gaping down at her from atop pikes.

Magna knew this was a sight she would take with her to the grave, along with the words Miko gasped next.

"I love _you._ Asshole and all."

And something settled in Magna's chest at last.

She was always going to be the person who assumed the worst - life had built her that way - and her decision making would probably forever gear towards survival mode as a result, which tended to end badly; at least, it had so in the last year. Miko resided on a far more optimistic end of the spectrum, even as she lived with the horrors of all they'd faced.

But for all their differences, they balanced each other out.

She understood that now.

So maybe . . . maybe she wasn't a weight pulling Miko down, after all - maybe she was the very thing that kept her afloat.

And maybe that could work. Maybe they could _make_ it work. If they just tried a little harder, if they just held on a little longer.

And holding on to Miko had always been the easiest thing in the world - even as she'd tried to resist that knowledge.

Closing the gap once more, Miko pressed their heads together as they both breathed in the moment, allowing themselves to be at peace in each other's company at last.

To rest.

Reaching down deep into herself, she found for once that there was no fear, nothing to hold her back and she reveled in that feeling for a moment, knowing what it meant.

"I love you."

It was time to stop running.

The last thing she felt that morning before finally allowing herself to fall asleep, was Miko's smile pressing into her skin; a permanent brand on her heart.

* * *

_"And we all have that one person, whether it's a month from now or ten years from now, we'd go back to. Cause at the end of the day they're the one who's arms always felt the most like home."_

_\- via the-homie-sexual_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> So I hope that ending was somewhat satisfying for y'all. The flashback scene especially was something I wrote to comfort myself whilst trying not to have more panic attacks over Magna possibly dying (am I going to survive the wait until 10.16 where we'll find out? I do not know)
> 
> Also, Magna is a tiger and Yumiko is a lioness, that is my headcannon, fight me if you dare. They are both overprotective big cats who will fuck you up if you hurt someone they love and its one of the reasons they go together so well.
> 
> One of the things that I wrote in an earlier chapter was how Magna thought that Yumiko believes in the system and isn't all that aware of its corruption. And I think that's a misjudgment on her part. I do think Yumiko does believe in the system but I don't think she's in any way blind to some of its faults or that she entirely trusts it. And I think that's pretty heavily implied in canon (I mean, she knows that the man who hurt Magna's cousin got away with it and, until this year, she'd assumed that the system had also gotten it wrong in regards to Magna by sentencing an innocent woman). So I sort of hinted a little bit at that in the last chapter (particularly in terms of being aware of how prejudices can effect the judicial process). Because I think Yumiko is optimistic and that law and the black and white perspective is a safe place for her but I also don't think she's in any way oblivious. I think she prefers to focus on the good things she's encountered rather than only the negative like Magna. And I think that one of the things that Magna used throughout the years to justify keeping this secret from Yumiko - and this wall between them - was that the other woman couldn't possibly understand, and the fear that she would hate her if she knew the truth. And that's just not true. And I think also, subconsciously, this might also have acted as another tool to keep Yumiko from getting too close because if she really knew magna and loved her in spite of the fact then there would be nothing that could drive her away. . . well I think that kind of love can be scary in a way. Especially because it means that if she does somehow drive yumiko away, it won't be because of something she's done in the past before ever meeting her and can no longer control, it will be because of something magna did to yumiko.
> 
> I think for Magna, she's just in this constant tug of war with her heart where she's torn between wanting to push Yumiko away and never let her go. But for Yumiko, she's been all in, all they way, almost from the very start. So that's a conflict.
> 
> The emotion thing is actually something that I have a little experience with. For most of my life, I couldn't recognize when I was feeling anger - and tended to label it as irritation or fear. I'm still learning how to recognize when I'm feeling sad, and I confuse it a lot with anxiety, anger and being overwhelmed. Love too can also be hard for me to pick up. And then one day I'll be like 'oh I enjoy being around this person and I'm actually really scared to lose them'. And I think some of that's because of trauma - particularly with the anger thing - and some of it is due to being autistic - I'm actually much better at recognizing other people's emotions and experiencing them vicariously than I am with my own. But in Magna's case it's mostly just trauma - particularly because she started experiencing it from a young age.


End file.
